At Days End

by Arthur

Chapter 1

This story is the property of the author and the copywrite belongs solely to him, this story contains sexual material of a gay nature, if this offends or otherwise disturbs you then leave now as you should not be here, all characters are fictional and pertain to no one living or dead, for contact with the author please follow the link below. This story is Edited by Darryl The Radio Rancher

The slender figure stood alone on the brow of the hill overlooking the small hamlet in the valley below, he was one of those teens that could have been a large twelve, a small sixteen or anywhere in between.

The raven black hair hung down to his shoulder blades and was cut raggedly but short over his ears then pulled back into a rough ponytail. His features were narrow, which gave him the appearance of being somewhat pixie-like. His lips were thin but well formed and his nose was thin but upturned at the very tip; on each side of the thin nose were a pair of aquamarine eyes that belied his heritage as did the flashes of caramel skin that showed in brief patches when he moved.

Most foreign of all was what the teen wore and carried, for such a young teen he should not have had to have such a burden nor be dressed in such a ragged manner, on his feet were a well worn pair of calf length canvas boots that had seen better days; the soles were of roughly worn rubber and the uppers were faded green canvas they were held on by the cross hatching of different pieces of string where once laces had been.

Further up the slender tanned legs were the very short legs of an old pair of cut off jeans that had also seen better days. Around the leg holes they were worn and a little tattered, over one butt cheek was a small tear showing bare butt skin when he bent over. Over his torso and underneath the outer coverings of shirt and jacket was a grubby tee shirt of indeterminate colour over which the faded blue plaid shirt hung open, the small white buttons long gone and never replaced.

Over all of this, the teen wore a beaten and old short leather jacket that barely covered him to the waist, although it looked to be about one size to big for his thin build. The bundle on his back was the faded and worn remains of a back pack much like one used by a school kid for his books, it had a rolled up and dirty sleeping bag tied to the top with frayed pieces of rope.

All this might seem strange to someone that did not know his background, but what really stood out about one so young, were the weapons he wore and carried with an ease that should not have been a part of his demeanour; slung over his left shoulder was a small .22 calibre rifle, mounted with a scope for better sighting. Around his waist was a narrow looped belt that was mostly filled with the small brass bullets for the rifle; along with the small calibre bullets hung a large well used knife, and over his right shoulder lay a thick wide belt loaded with shotgun shells to match the sawn off, double barrel 410 magnum gauge he held in his hands and ever at the ready. The world of 2032 was not a place to be when young, alone and somewhat good looking, and definitely not to be unarmed in.

The world as we know it was no more; major financial collapses, intercine wars, religious fervour, bigotry, hate and fear now pervaded the world. It was every man for himself, to attach one's self to someone could lead to disaster; it had become common place for people to meet only on a casual basis and part with little thought or attachment. For a young teen, it was a world of solitude that led to being ever vigilant and alert.

What had led the world to this point had happened so fast that few even realised what was happening until it was too late. For the young looking teen it had all been over when he was born in a drafty barn on the outskirts of a small town, his mother, at thirteen years of age, had little chance of surviving the birth and, had it not been for one of her slightly older friends taking the small bundle as she breathed her last, the teen would never have survived. At the age of eight he was just another dirty and scruffy wild kid on the streets, trying to make it through one more day.

The lessons he learned at such a young age showed in the form of scars on his knees, legs and two long scars on his shoulder blades, his youthful face was marred only by a very thin white scar running from his right eyebrow to his jaw line, although it was not at first obvious under the thin layer of road dirt.

Even before he was born, the world was in trouble. The various financial institutions had folded in on themselves as monstrous loans made to countries that did not have the capability to repay them, began to default. Greece was followed quickly by Spain, then came Italy, Portugal, Lithuania and most of the Slavic countries. The biggest ripple was felt when France could no longer meet her obligations. The year of the Euro was soon close to the end; at the final opening of the books it was found that the ever powerful and strong Germany had been hiding its true state for years; at this disclosure it was only a matter of months before England, Australia, South Africa and even the once mighty and powerful United States were in a worse position than the historical Depression of the 1930's.

In Asia, the might of China soon felt the loss of essential trade, as the economy of each trading partner collapsed into ruin, it was not long before its millions of peasant people began to rise up against the strictness of the communist rulers. It was the beginning of the end for the once secret country, as even the army began to feel the pinch of non payment of wages. Within three months of the other strong countries falling into depression, China was at the start of a rebellion that was to cause the deaths of millions and the collapse of the Communist overlords.

As countries collapsed under their burdens of debt, the first stirrings of religious fervour took over. Governments could no longer operate, as their financial base took heavy hit after heavy hit until there was nothing left but despair and a future of hunger or war; most chose war, and so a modern day crusade began with a large number of churches leading the way.

In the middle East, there had been intercine warfare which turned into genocide for the losing side. Islam was not only at war within itself, but with everyone else that refused to join them. The Christian religions were also at each other's throats, most saw this time as a way for them to finally gain control over the populace that had once spurned there radical ways.

The lesser Christian groups could only stand back and hope for the best as the stronger ones fought for dominance in a fast declining civilisation, until only two dominated the world, Islam and Catholicism, both lead by radicals. Islam was determined to be the one and only religion throughout what was left after the wars, unfortunately for them, the Catholics had the same idea which could only lead to what was now known as the 'Second Inquisition'.

The battles were still being fought on so many fronts that it was easy to get confused as to who was fighting whom as different factions split away and tried to form their own little sects. This had led to many young men being conscripted to do the fighting for the older, if less wiser, heads that ruled the factions. A young teen like the one that stood alone on the hilltop was a prime target for such conscription and it was one of the main reasons he was careful to not be seen, if at all possible, even a boy his own age could be a threat to his freedom in these tumultuous times.

While the Catholics had many varied brotherhoods among their empire, there were those that still tried to follow the pacifist way, like the Franciscan and St Claire, but unfortunately there were those that had other ideas. The main pogrom of the new Inquisition was led by both the Dominicans and the Jesuits, neither of whom were what one could call, Saintly; theirs was a way of life that could only lead to torture or death, or, more likely, both.

His name was Kros, and to the best of his limited knowledge, he was fourteen years old. In the last six years, since his first foray onto the wild streets and country side, he had learnt many lessons, some hard and some passed on by one or two fleeting friendships. He had also been schooled by the birds and wild animals that now seemed to pervade every part of the land, now that the mighty cities were no more, and the avalanche of people had stopped trying to tame the wilds. Their numbers had shrunk, due to the many wars, famines and disease that reduced the populations around the world by hundreds of millions.

In this land of his, there had once been many thriving farms that were now no more than ruins, the land returning to nature and the buildings reduced to piles of broken lumber and stone, all forms of farm animals now ran wild over the open spaces and, only in small hamlets much like the one below him was there any order, although that was also controlled by those who had the means to rule with an iron fist and the loud voice of religion, none of this was for the teen that stood alone on the hill.

Kros could neither read nor write, but he could do his numbers and did have an innate sense of right and wrong, although it was a little skewed towards his own needs. For Kros, there was no one else to consider; his survival was paramount in his plans and his way of life.

Kros looked down at the hamlet. It was surrounded by a thick wooden fence made from felled tree trunks, that stood as high as two men, at the gateway, and buried into the ground up to the top of their now idle tracks, sat two military tanks. The movement of the turrets showed they were still able to be used to defend the town with their long cannon.

Kros could see down into the centre of the small town. At its heart sat the spire of a church, surrounded by what could be small stores and other smaller buildings that could only be the homes of the townspeople, it was only in small towns like this that any currency was ever used, for the general people that moved throughout the country there was a system of barter. Items could be used far more easily than some useless coin or paper, although Kros did have a few silver and copper coins in his small back pack for the rare occasion that he needed them, he had taken them from those that had tried in some way to get rid of him. He had the scars to prove his ability to defend himself.

His weapons he had come by in the same manner, either by trade or by conquest of his opponent, in his pack he carried the barest of needs to cook a meal and one single change of clothes, although those in the pack were in no better condition than what he was wearing at the moment, for Kros it was a matter of wearing clothes so he did not get cold, if need be, and it had happened in the past; he was just as comfortable going as naked as the day he was born. To Kros's way of thinking, one way was as good as the other.

Surrounding the palliated town were small areas of farmland, some used to grow vegetables, while other areas were fenced off and held cattle, sheep and a few goats, to all intents and purposes the small hamlet town was self supporting. They even had a small fresh water stream running under the palisade and guided through the centre of town as a streamlet enclosed in a concrete channel.

What had made Kros pause before trying to enter the town was the sight of three black robed figures sitting at a table by the church doors while the townspeople went up to them and did their business. Kros could easily guess what the business was; he had seen it time and time again as he travelled through the country looking for something that he did not know the name of, or the reason for his wanderings.

Kros settled down on his haunches as he watched the black robed men in the town centre, he had crossed paths with others of their ilk and had no intentions of going anywhere near these three. His last meeting had been a close call and he'd had to leave two bodies behind to get away, the small hidden two barrelled pistol, along with the handful of thick stubby bullets in his jacket pocket had been the reward for his escape. Those black robed priests did not go around unarmed.

The sudden sound of surprised yells from the town below brought him out of his daydreaming, the scene below was now changing as two boys were being tightly held by two of the priests. One was no more than a young boy and the other was an older teen, perhaps two years older than Kros himself, Kros could not make out the words but the Priests actions spoke loudly, the two boys were being taken for some reason; to Kros's mind it was probably because the boys' mother and father could not pay the Priests tithe. It was a common occurrence nowadays.

The older teen would be sent to be trained as a soldier for the crusade overseas, while the younger boy would be for the use of the Priests and their nefarious ways. It was common knowledge that most of the Priests had a penchant for young boys, and once the boys were of the right age, they were also sent away to fight for the church in the many overseas battles for dominance of religion.

There were no longer any private vehicles, as most of the once easily available oil was no longer produced, the many wars had seen an end to that means of money and power, most transport nowadays was done by horse or man power, only a very few lucky Priests had the use of old vehicles, but many had been turned into covered wagons or had the hard roofs removed to make open carriages for people or produce to be carried around.

Kros knew that what was happening below was none of his business; he had his own problems to deal with and trying to rescue a couple of farm boys was not high on his list of things to do. In his mind he had already decided not to go down to the town. he only had a need for salt and it was not worth the aggravation he could get into if he went down there, he could live without salt for a little longer, the smoked and sun dried deer meat in his pack would see him through for some time yet, so the need for salt was not paramount.

Kros rose and turned to leave, suddenly something made him pause, he had developed a feral sense and awareness in his time alone, and had learnt not to disregard the feelings when they came over him. Standing perfectly still, he let his sharp pale eyes roam the land around his high point, it took him only a little time to see the slight movement in the long grass below his hill top, there was not even the slightest hint of a breeze so Kros knew that something or someone was hiding in the grass.

His instincts told him he was in no danger, as the item below was not going to be able to come up the hill without Kros seeing him first, slowly he turned back the way he had come and prepared to move on and around the small town, a sound behind him brought him to an immediate halt. Kros spun around with the speed of a striking snake; the double barrels pointing towards the slim figure that suddenly appeared at a run coming towards him.

There seemed to be a strange familiarity about the young teen even though he was not looking directly at Kros, the look in the eyes of the boy was one of a hunted animal and the fear was almost a palpable scent in the air as Kros tightened his grip on the stubby weapon of the 410 gauge, both hammers were cocked and ready. At this range he would nearly cut the boy in half if need be.

Kros was about to lower the shotgun when he caught sight of the boy's face, it was an ever changing facade of fear, urgency and back to fear as the boy ran helter-skelter past him, the boy gave a loud shout at the strange armed boy as he passed.

"The Priest is coming, run for your life."

The boy was then off as fast as his thin legs would carry him down the back of the hill, Kros looked back towards the town and saw one of the Priests mounted on a fast galloping horse coming towards where he stood, the Priest's black robes had ridden up his long thick legs and Kros could see the booted feet under the flapping robe, this was no time to be daydreaming and Kros turned and sprinted after the fast disappearing teen.

As he ran, Kros eased the twin hammers back down on the shotgun, it took little thought as he had done this so often it was almost as an afterthought. With a gesture made easy with long practice, Kros pushed the short stubby gun into his belt and swung the long .22 rifle from his shoulder, again with practiced ease he made sure that the magazine on the semi automatic was well seated and then cocked the rifle as he ran after the teen.

Kros reached the edge of the stand of trees where the other teen had disappeared, he could now plainly hear the thunder of the fast approaching hooves, even as fast on his feet as he was, Kros knew he could not outrun a fast horse and it would be stupid to even try. With that thought in his mind, Kros spun around and went to one knee as he raised the small rifle to his slender shoulder, looking through the enhanced sights he lined up the bobbing figure on the back of the horse, moving targets were not new to Kros, and at this close range even he could not miss, he squeezed the trigger twice and felt the slight kick of the rifle against his shoulder, through the scope, he watched as a shocked look came over the face of the fast closing Priest, he then saw the two small holes in the forehead of the Priest as they began to dribble out the first few drops of the now dead Priests blood, both shots were within an inch of each other and dead centre of the Priests sweating forehead.

Kros knew he was in no danger of the other Priests hearing his two shots; it was one of the reasons he liked the smaller rifle. Not only was he able to use it without a struggle, but it was much quieter than its larger cousins and at close range was just as effective if you knew how to use it and Kros knew how to use it well.

As its rider fell from its back, the horse slowed until it was no more than walking at a slow pace, the smell of fresh grass soon took hold in the horse' head and it stopped to eat as Kros approached the unmoving figure now crumpled in a heap on the hard ground, Kros knew that the Priest would have something on him worth taking, you could not afford to walk away from a gift horse in these times.

As he crouched over the dead Priest, Kros felt something approaching him from behind, spinning around and bringing the rifle to his shoulder once again; he then saw it was the same boy that had run madly past him on the hill, Kros lowered the rifle but kept it close just in case, even a young town teen could not be trusted if you wanted to stay alive.

"Is, is he dead?" stammered out the newcomer.

"I wouldn't be standing here if he weren't."

"Who... who are you?"

"Who's you?" Kros countered.

"I'm Danil, those Priests got my brothers and were coming after me, I had to run, I didn't want to be a bum boy for them and their likes."

Kros looked the town boy up and down for a minute, deep in his belly he felt a stirring that could only mean one thing, his body liked what he saw, Kros did not have any social graces, they were something he could not afford, when he saw something he liked or wanted, he took it or traded for it.

"I'm Kros, do you boy fuk?"

"You want to boy fuk right here after that Priest nearly got us, are you a mad boy?"

"Not mad, not here, my gut says it's hungry for boy fuk so I want a boy fuk, you in?"

"I would like to, but I have to try to save my brothers."


"Cause they are my brothers, I can't let those old Priests have them, it's not right."

"How you going to get them from the Priests, you think they just give to you?"

Kros could see that the teen was almost in tears as he tried to find a way to get his two brothers back, the lack of any ideas was obvious, the boy had not had to fight for everything, he had been protected by the town and by his parents, Kros looked the boy over once again, he would make a nice partner for a boy fuk but Kros had no intentions of fighting battles that were not his.

Kros turned back to the crumpled body and began to search it, under the black robe the Priest wore nothing but a shirt and short pants, his belly was soft and large and covered in thick black hair, the shorts showed where the Priest had vacated his bowels as his life left him, he ignored the rancid smell and began to loosen the belt that held a large pistol and a long heavy knife around the Priest's waist.

From one of the inside pockets of the robe, Kros took a substantial number of silver and copper coins, the roll of paper he left behind, they meant little to him, a few more bits and pieces that he found went into his own pockets, the one find he really appreciated was the small leather wallet holding needles and thread along with a few buttons, this was indeed a good find.

Kros turned back to see the look on the other teens face, it was one of shock and a little horror, Kros could not make out what had the boy so concerned.

"What?" asked Kros.

"You, you can't do that."

"Do what?"

"Take things from a Priest, specially when he is dead."

"Why not, he's dead, he can't use no more, better I have it than the crows."

"But, but!"

Kros threw the pistol and belted knife towards the teen and watched as the boy fumbled the catch until he got a solid grip on the heavy belt.

"You want to save ya brothers, you gonna need that, those other Priests not going to like you just taking them."

"I don't know how to use it, we're not allowed guns in town."

"If you going after your brothers then you better learn quick, just hold it in both hands and pull back the hammer then squeeze the trigger, just make sure you aint looking down the barrel when it goes bang."

The boy looked at Kros as though he was some sort of foreign person and not the boy who had saved him from the charging Priest.

"I don't know anything about guns, can you teach me, or even better, help me get my brothers back?"

"Why would I, what you gonna pay me to help you?"

"Pay you? I don't have anything, why don't you do it just to help people, that's what good Christian people do."

"I aint no Christian people, and no Christian people ever helped me, you want me ta help, you pay me somethin."

"But what, I told you I have nothing."

"You got you."

"What do you mean?"

Kros replaced his rifle on his shoulder and once again pulled out the stubby shotgun.

"See this here, I played bum boy for an old man for five days for this and the shells, you want my help for your brothers and you be my boy fuk for five days, you do all the cooking and watch my gears if I go out hunting then you be my boy fuk at night time, take it or leave it."

Danil looked at the hard faced boy in front of him, he wasn't averse to being a boy fuk, in fact he quite liked doing it, but was it worth five days of being this strange young teen's sole boy fuk in return for his brothers' lives, added to that he was now part of the death of a Priest, he almost felt like breaking down into tears, at last he saw no other way out of it and the strange boy was not that bad looking, although eh did need a good wash and some clean clothes, Danil shrugged his shoulders, he was certain that his brothers were well worth five nights of boy fuks, he looked at Kros with a little more determination on his young smooth face.

"Ok, but we get my brothers back, first."

"Done, now let's go further back in the trees, you need to learn to use that gun if we gonna get them back, go get the horse, we may need it later."

Kros led the way deeper into the thickening trees, when he thought they were well away from being heard, he slipped off his pack and began to show Danil how to use the heavy pistol, they only had twelve bullets so they could not go wasting any but Kros got him to fire off two shots so he would know how it felt, neither of the shots even came close to the tree trunk he was using as a target, he hoped it would not be needed but at least now Danil knew how to use it even if he couldn't hit anything.

"When can we go after my brothers?" Danil asked Kros.

"When it's dark, they won't go nowhere for now, too late in the day and they will be searching for that dead Priest, when they find him they will want to search and then call for more help, how far away is the next church with more Priests?"

"Two full days even at a fast gallop, maybe three if they are slower."

"So, two days to get there and two or three to get back, where will they keep your brothers?"

"Probably in the basement of the church, it's all stone down there and they won't be able to get away."

"How many more Priests in the town?"

"Two more in the church, these three came from the other town to get the tithe, so now there's four altogether."

"What's the townies going to do if we make some noise getting the brothers?"

"Some of them are going to get angry but most will just shut their doors and not look, the Priests have stolen a lot from them and they are not liked much out here in the wilds."

"Any other way into the town instead of past those metal guns?"

"There's a small hole in the wall where most of the boys sneak out when they want to do things alone or without the elders watching."

"Do the Priests know about the hole?"

"No, we hide it behind some old boxes and rubbish, only some of the older boys know about it."

"Then we go in that way when it's dark, now you can't be slow, we go in, get your brothers and get out, we try to not have troubles, if the Priests try to stop us we kill them and run, ok?"

"K..Kill them?"

"Yup, they's only Priests, don't mean much to anyone, we got to get a long way from here before anyone comes to look for us so no fuk about."

"Ok, I'll try."

"No just trying, you do it and run with your brothers but you stay close to me you owe me five days of boy fuk and work, you not pay you will be sorry."

"Ok, I know, you get my brothers and I'll keep my word."

"Good then let's eat and sleep until dark, follow me."

Kros led Danil a little deeper into the trees where he had the boy tie up the horse with a length of rope long enough so the horse could continue to feed. If things went wrong, they would need its speed to escape. Once done, they looked for a place to hide until it was full night, he got out some dried deer meat and gave it to Danil before settling back with some himself.

As they chewed silently, Kros looked the teen over, the slight bulge in the boy's rough pants gave him a warm feeling deep in his own groin. If what he thought he saw was real then he was going to enjoy being underneath the teen when they had time. For now, he was content to lay back and just watch the other boy.

Danil was about the same height as Kros, but his body was a little thicker and showed some promise of heavy muscles when he was older. He had a crop of dark brown hair, cut short all over, small ears stuck out from the side of his head, his eyes were green flecked with brown and his nose was more of a small button than Kros's own long slender one, there was the faintest of smatterings of freckles over the bridge of the boy's nose, Kros decided he found the boy quite appealing.

Kros awoke in full darkness, there was only the faintest of slivers of the moon showing in the dark sky above them, out of habit, he knew when, where and why he was here. His ears searched the area around them while his eyes grew used to the dark, he had found out some time ago that his unusual pale eyes gave him better night vision than most ordinary people, he searched around him to make sure his weapons were close at hand. With a soft grunt, he reached over and poked Danil in the ribs to wake him.

"Time to go, it's middle night and they will all be sleeping now, just stay close and follow me; don't make any noise; we aren't the only ones out at night."

Kros took the lead. The sound of Danil behind him seemed very loud in his ears. He was used to moving almost in total silence when alone, and even though Danil was born in the wild, he seemed to move like a drunken man in the stillness of the night, Kros hoped nothing hungry would hear them as he moved with confidence through the thick trees towards the distant township.

Kros led them unerringly to the top of the same hill where they had first met. Down below, the small town was dark and silent. It was far too late to be out and about when there was a heavy work load to do the following morning, the folk of the wilds were not late night people.

Kros led Danil to the rear of the heavy wooden palisade where he let the other boy lead him to the hidden entrance through the high walls. Kros had expected it to be a tight squeeze but was soon pleasantly surprised when Danil pulled aside some thick bushes to reveal two of the heavy poles had been carefully cut to create a small doorway, the two cut short lengths of pole were easy to pull away and the two boys wriggled through with little difficulty.

Inside, all was quiet. The only light showing was high up on the second floor of the church, there was no need for guards in this small town, except for the two men inside the hunkered down tanks at the gate, there may have been little trouble this far out in the wilds, but they still took no chances and the finding of the dead priest earlier in the day only went further to prove this point.

The remaining Priests had sent one of their number galloping off to carry the news and get more help, if there were bandits in the area, they would need to be found quickly and brought before the board of the Inquisition for payment of their crime.

In the church, the body of the slain Priest lay in his rough wooden coffin in front of the main alter, there would be a special service for him on the next day, he was attended by each of the Priests throughout the night in relays, one staying by the coffin at all times.

Kros and Danil quietly sneaked up to the main door of the church, they soon found that the door was locked, they would have to find another way inside, Danil took the lead and showed Kros the small back door that led to the sacristy where the young boys who attended the many masses got changed into their white smocks.

Much to Kros's surprise, the door was unlocked and they were able to slip inside without making any noise, with careful and quiet steps, Danil led Kros through into the main body of the church, they were about to walk boldly out when Kros heard a faint cough from the front of the church, with a quick fore arm he stopped Danil from going further while he looked around a thick wooden beam and down to where he saw the coffin and the figure of the seated black robed Priest.

Silently, Kros, using signs, asked where the door to the cellar was, it took a few minutes to get the question through to Danil but once he understood, he pointed to a thick door at the side of the church, they would have to pass right by the Priest to get to it, Kros pushed Danil back the way they had come and, once inside the small room he began to take off his equipment and hand it to the other boy, keeping only his knife he gestured for Danil to stay there while he went to look after the Priest, there was a sudden shocked look on the face of Danil as he realised what Kros was about to do.

Danil was now conflicted as to what he should do, it was evident that Kros was about to do away with another Priest but, balanced against that were the lives if his brothers, he sighed heavily as he made the final decision, his family had to come first, he gripped Kros's possessions a little tighter and stepped back. It was the only way.

Kros slipped through the door once again and went to the floor on his belly, slithering along like a large snake, he made his way forward, going around or under the many rows of seats, from below the front and final row of seats he could make out the Priests shod feet, he was seated no more than five feet away with his back to the rest of the church as he bowed his head with his hands clasped together in prayer for his lost friend, for him there was no signal, just a faint movement of air then something very sharp cutting quickly through his throat, his gurgles sounded loud in the stillness of the empty church as Kros let the body slump to the stone floor.

Kros showed no emotion as the body slipped to the floor, turning his head he gave a soft whistle that was just loud enough to reach the waiting ears of Danil as he stood behind the thick beam, quickly Danil made it to Kros' side where he handed back the equipment he had been holding. With practiced ease, Kros replaced his gear and led the way to the thick door, he did not even give the cooling body a single glance as he tried the door.

Danil stood frozen for a few seconds as the scene of the dead Priest filled his head, he now had to go all the way, it was far too late to salvage anything from this night on, he would be a hunted boy for the rest of his life, the killing of a Priest was the worst thing one could do and they would never give up hunting the perpetrators.

Finally, when he could pull his eyes away from the scene on the floor, Danil followed Kros to the door which the strange boy now had open, the stone steps leading below were well worn and there was the faintest of glows in the darkness, again Kros took the lead, with a light glowing down there it could mean the boys had a guard, he gripped his long sharp knife a little tighter, he couldn't afford to use one of his guns in this confined space or within the limits of the town.

When he reached the bottom step he saw that the basement was empty except for the outline of two boys asleep in a barred area at the end of the long room, most of the area was used for storage and only the single barred cell marked off the place from the rest of the open area.

Kros whispered a few words in Danil's ear and the boy set off to where his two brothers lay asleep, Kros remained alert and on guard at the bottom of the steps, the two captured boys would need to see their brother before they would feel safe escaping from the hands of the Priests.

It took Danil a little time to wake his brothers. He was glad to see that his little brother had as yet not filled a Priests bed but was curled up comfortably in his older brothers arms. Finally, Danil managed to awaken his older brother. At the sight of Danil, Grega gave a start then looked down at the still sleeping form of the youngest one, with a gesture, Danil finally got Grega to come to the door carrying the small figure of Davi in his arms, the young boy had not stirred even in the slightest. In a hushed whisper, Danil explained why he was there and that he had help, but they had to leave straight away, Grega just nodded and pointed his head towards where the key hung on the wall.

Danil got the key and opened the door just as Davi raised his head and looked at his brother with sleep filled eyes, Grega whispered softly in the young boy's ear to go back to sleep as they were going to leave this place for somewhere safe. Davi nodded sleepily and settled back into his older brothers chest as he followed Danil to where Kros waited for them.

Grega gave the young strange teen a look of askance as he followed Danil, the teen was not one of the town's boys so he did not know him but he seemed to know his brother Danil, he had to take a chance he would not let the Priests take his little brother for a bed boy for the likes of them even if it meant they would forever after be on the run from the Inquisition and its tormentors, Grega just followed along as the stranger led the way back up the stone steps and into the body of the church, while the sight of a dead Priest on the floor of the church at first startled Grega, he soon ignored it and quickly followed the other two out of the church building.

As the group of four made it away from the now covered hole on the palisade, they suddenly heard the loud peeling tones of the large bell in the tower of the church, the dead Priest had been found, the boys were now on the run as the town behind them began to awaken to the sound of the loud ringing bell.

With a speed that would have been reckless to others, Kros led the boys easily through the dark and up the hill, as the furore continued behind them, but began to fade with distance; Kros led the boys into the darkness of the woods on an unerring path towards where the horse stood waiting for them, he could hear the two boys stumbling behind him and had to return to help them a number of times until finally, he made it to the small clearing where he saw the outline of the horse who stood waiting.

"You ride ok?"

"A little." Grega replied for them both.

Kros just nodded and then began to get rid of the single saddle, there were no bags to go through for treasure but he took the new looking rope from the horn of the saddle and threw it over his head so it sat around his neck, he would put it into his pack when they were at a safe distance from the clamour behind them.

Kros watched as Grega gave the still sleeping little boy to his brother so he could mount the horse, once that was done, Danil passed the boy up to him and, with the help of Kros and an outstretched hand from Grega, he also mounted.

Kros untied the halter from the tree branch and gave it a light tug to get the horse moving, within a few paces, Kros was loping silently through the darkness, his soft rubber soles making no sound on the soft ground and only the steady rhythm of the horse hooves as it trotted behind him could be heard.

Grega had placed the now awakening boy between himself and Danil who sat in front of him, as Davi woke he realised he had to grip onto the waist of his middle brother so he would not fall and be lost in the dark, the comforting hands of Grega around his waist also gave him a sense of safety as he bounced up and down on the horse.

The innate knowledge of his surroundings gave Kros all the information he needed to head through the darkness; he avoided the black tree trunks and large bushes with ease; in his right hand he carried the shotgun and in his left the reins of the horse, it seemed to know that the human leading it was safe and so followed along without trouble.

Kros's ground eating pace soon had them approaching a lighter patch of trees, another ten minutes and they stopped on the edge of the wood. Before them was an open plain no more than half a mile wide where it then led up to the high rising cliffs that told of the looming mountains further away. It was this place that Kros was heading for. He knew of a cave they could stay in for the day and then move on during the following night, the townspeople would not try to find them during the night and he felt sure they would not be able to track them through the woods.

Breaking into his loping run once again, he led the horse forward towards the cliff face, he could almost hear the boys on its back groan from the unaccustomed mode of transport, their butts would be good and tender by the time they stopped, Kros thought that Danil would be happy that Kros would be too tired to have his first boy fuk tonight.

It took another fifty minutes for Kros to find the large cave, there he had the boys dismount while he led the horse and the following boys deeper inside. He knew from before that the cave was deep and the hard stone floor would show no tracks to be followed by any hunters.

After walking for five minutes in the pitch dark, Kros called a halt, the steady sound of dripping water caught the boys' attention Their throats were by now very dry, and as the first faint glimmer of daylight filtered into the depths of the large cave, their eyes caught the site of the small pool of fresh water at the base of the stone walls in the back of the cave.

Kros led the horse to the water and let him drink; once that was done he removed the reins and looped them around the front feet of the horse so he would not run away while they all slept, Kros then started to remove his pack and lay his guns close beside him, as he watched the boys drink from the shallow pool, he got some more meat out of his pack. He would now have to be careful on how much they ate until he could get more. Once he was rid of the boys, he could go about his own business, although he had no idea what that business was. Until then, he had a boy to do his work and for his fun as a boy fuk.

Once the boys had drunk their fill and come to sit around Kros, he handed them all some of the dried meat and settled back to rest.

He watched as the oldest boy looked him over. Kros was not used to being examined so closely.

"What?" he asked Grega.

"Why did you help us, you don't look like the type of boy who helps strangers?"

"Got a bargain with your brother."

"A bargain, what bargain?"

"Ask him, he's your brother."

"I'm asking you." The look of anger on Grega's face soon had him looking down the twin barrels of the shot gun.

"Ask your brother, you try angry at me then look out." Kros waved the shot gun for emphasis as his eyes began to burn into Grega's own, the older boy was no fool and quickly saw he was on dangerous ground, with a shrug of his shoulders he turned to his younger brother.

"So what's up between you and him?" asked Grega of his brother.

"We made a deal, if he helped to rescue you."

"What deal?"

"I would do work for him for five days." Grega saw the slightly flustered look on his brother's face and knew there was something he was not telling him.


"That's between me and him, stop being the big nosy brother."

"What else? I know you and you're not telling me everything."

Danil looked even more embarrassed as he looked into the searching eyes of his older brother, it was a dead give away and he knew it.

"I got to be his boy fuk as well."

Grega turned to Kros and eyed him up and down like a wild animal getting ready to jump; Kros just smiled and waved the shot gun once again.

"Deal is a deal, not your business."

Grega could see the truth of the matter and, while he did not like the thought of his younger brother selling himself to this boy, he was not about to make it worse by making him back out of a deal that had been agreed on, he sighed and could only nod his head in agreement, there was little he could do about it if he wanted to get well away from anyone that might try to retake them, he only hoped the boy would have some decency and not make out with his brother in front of little Davi, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Ok, a deal is a deal, but nothing in front of Davi, he's too young to see that sort of thing going on."

Kros just nodded his head, he had no intention of letting the others see what sort of thing he liked to do with other boys, Kros rose and made for the entrance of the cave, as he went to sleep close to the entrance where he would hear anyone trying to sneak up on them, he turned his head towards the three boys in the faint light.

"Go sleep, when it's night we have a long way to go for safety, I'll sleep close to the cave mouth so we don't get caught."

That said, Kros left the three alone to find a sleeping place. He was too tired for long discussions on the morals of the agreement. Kros found a reasonably comfortable place near the entrance and arranged his guns around him. The little double barrel pistol was hidden in his hand as he dropped off to his own sleep.

The faint stamping of the horses hooves woke Kros in the late afternoon, carefully raising his head, he searched outside the cave for any odd movement or danger. Seeing none, he made his way back to where the three boys were still sleeping, unhitching the horse, he led it outside so it could feed on the plentiful grass just outside the cave mouth, water would be easy to come by once they got further towards the wide track that led over the cliffs. It would be well into the night before they made it to the top of the low range of hills.

Kros waited and watched as the horse first fed, then spent some time vacating its bowels, when this was done he led it back inside just in time to see the three boys rising from their sleep.

"Drink plenty and I'll get some meat out. We have to leave as soon as the sun is down; we have a long way to go before we can stop again."

The boys said nothing but just followed the instructions. Once they were well watered and fed, Kros led them outside and got them up on the horse again, just like the previous night, he put the shot gun in his right hand and the reins in his left. Once everything was settled to his satisfaction, he strode off with long ground eating strides, for one as short as he was, the ground just seemed to pass under his feet with little effort, the horse followed along at a quick walk, the three boys perched up on his back.

At the steady pace he was using, Kros was soon at the base of the wide path up to the top of the ridge. By now he had only the light of the rising moon to see by, but for him it was plenty. The path was wide and reasonably clear of any rock falls or other hindrances. He led the horse upwards; it would be a long slow climb. Kros knew of a wide stopping place just over half way, where they could rest for a little and eat some more dried meat. There was also a small dribble of fresh water that cascaded from above that they could use to refresh themselves and the horse.

Just after midnight, they came to the wide part of the track. None of the boys would ever know that this used to be a popular lookout spot for travellers that were going over the range of hills, for them, it was just a good wide stopping place to rest their weary bodies and wet their, now dry, throats.

As the others rested, Kros went to the very edge of the track and looked back along their path for any signs of pursuit. Much to his satisfaction, there was little or no sign of anyone following them although, far away on the opposite ridge line, three yellow specks of light were showing, Kros knew they could only be made by the flames of open fires, they had pursuers, although they were far away and would find it hard to catch the fast moving boys.

Kros put the new information in the back of his mind, for now. He had to get the boys safely over the hill and into an area where they would be impossible to be found. This safe haven was still three days fast movement away, he would not be able to have his contract paid, for a few more days yet. Kros turned back and watched the three boys as they rested.

The older boy, Grega was almost the older version of Danil, had there not been two or three years difference in their ages they would have been taken for identical twins, the little boy Davi was also going to be much like the two older ones, there was no denying that the three were brothers, Kros began to find all three attractive, although the youngest had a long way to go before he would be appealing as a boy fuk, but the older one certainly had Kros's hormones working.

Kros shook his head to clear away the thoughts; it was time to start moving again. Calling the three boys to remount the horse, Kros set up everything as before, with a light tug on the reins, Kros had them moving forward at a steady pace, the clop, clop of the horse's hooves seemed to fill the night around them.

The first faint glimmer of dawn was showing in the east as the small group came up over the top of the pass and onto the flat ground of the mesa top. Kros led the way to another hole that indicated another cave, he knew they would be safe there, for the rest of the morning. It was his intention to now move during the day so they could make better time, they would rest and sleep here until midday then move on. With the lead they now had, it should be easier to stay well ahead of any pursuit.

Kros watched as the three boys settled down to sleep, tossing his back pack to Danil, he told him.

"Watch, don't touch anything inside, I'll be back soon."

So saying, he turned his back and began to lope towards the edge of the mesa they had just come over. Once on the very edge, Kros used his eyes and, after a few minutes, at the very furtherest edge of his visual capabilities, he saw ten small black dots moving towards the cave they had stayed in yesterday. Ahead of the ten dots, he could just make out two smaller ones, it was the last thing he wanted to see, the followers had dogs.

Kros could tell that the group would not catch up to them for a long time yet. The climb alone would take them close to a full day and they still had another hour at least to get to the base of the mesa, he guessed they would stop for the rest of the day and start their climb tomorrow, he had plenty of time.

Returning to the small cave, he saw that Danil was sleeping with his head on the unopened pack. Kros smiled and settled down for a quick nap of his own; from here onwards it would be easier and mostly downhill, he could speed up a little and be well away before the trackers got anywhere close to them.

Kros was awakened by the heat of the midday sun, with a little stretch and yawn he went about waking the others, in only a matter of minutes the small group was moving quickly to the far edge of the mesa. Once there, Kros increased the pace and led them all down another track. It was easy going and they began to make good time. While it took them a good ten hours to get up to the top of the mesa, it took less than three hours to make it down. By later afternoon they were all on flat ground and Kros was leading them at a fast trot towards some far off trees which would be their camp for the night. Along the way, Kros stopped only once to take the time to shoot a wild turkey for their dinner, as he ran with the horses reins over his shoulder, he plucked the large bird.

Kros was not worried about the line of feathers he left behind. The trackers knew they were ahead of them and the soft ground under the hooves of the horse left a very clear path, they would just have to outdistance the followers until he could get to the place he knew would conceal them more easily.

As the last glimmer of daylight left the sky, Kros took out his worn flint and got a fire going. He had Danil use the large knife they had taken from the priest, and gut the turkey, then cut it up into pieces small enough to cook quickly, they were all hungry and needed the fresh bird meat. The horse was staked out with the longer new rope so it could happily feed to its heart's content; it'd had to carry a triple burden and was in need of a good rest.

Just inside the trees where they camped was a small stream that supplied all the water they needed, as a further bonus, Kros decided it was time to wash both himself and his clothes. To this end, he stripped naked, and after also pulling out his other used clothes from his pack, he gave them to Danil and told him to start washing while their meal cooked, for himself, he got the sliver of soap he still had and went to a slightly deeper pool along the bank and jumped in. Little time passed before the river had a thin film of soap suds flowing past where Danil bent over, trying to scrub dirt from the boy's clothes, Grega watched his brother then rose and went to help. Little Davi could only sit and stare at the naked boy in the pool. He was fascinated by the scars on the boy's back. They looked old but must have been very painful when he got them.

Kros finished washing and looked at the now thinner sliver of soap, he would have to get more when he went for salt. His slender boyhood and small testicles had shrivelled up in the cold water, but he took no notice of it as he walked towards the fire to dry off; he totally ignored the looks of the little boy as he stood over the fire, drying. Behind him he could hear the two older ones working on his clothes. The slap, slap of the clothes as they hit the rock was almost a calming beat as they worked.

Kros looked closely at the meat of the turkey; it had been speared onto fresh green sticks and hung over the flames to cook, the smell of the fresh cooking meat brought saliva to his mouth as he contemplated the fresh taste it would bring, they would feast well tonight, Kros turned around so he could dry his back, with the eyes of the little boy never leaving his body and what it showed. Kros ignored him.

Just as the meat was ready, the other two boys arrived with the wet clothes, using some more fresh cut sticks, they set about arranging the clothes around the fire to dry. The sight of a naked Kros was at first alarming, as they noticed their littlest brother eyeing the teen, but then they ignored him as they finished hanging the clothes. The turkey was now cooked and they were hungry.

An hour later, and the turkey was no more, only a pile of discarded bones told of its existence, the four boys were now lying back, their young bellies distended almost beyond what they were designed for, the soft sound of belches could be heard in the dark night as they all settled down around the fire to sleep, Kros was still naked while his clothes hung drying.

Just before he dropped off to sleep, Danil wondered what it would like to cuddle up close to the naked body of the boy that had saved them all, while his thoughts were in that direction, his body was just too tired to make anything of it and he let his eyes close and the warmth of the fire sent him into dream land.

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