Waking the Prince

by Shawn Lane

  “After we eat you may sleep,” Magnus said. “But first we must go over your training.”

  He scowled. “Can it not wait?”

  Magnus wrapped his hand around Roland’s wrist and led him to a wooden carving that appeared to be some sort of bench the villagers had likely left behind. “Sit.”

  With narrowed eyes, Roland sat and Magnus sat next to him.

  “I would like to tell you of what is expected of you.”

  Roland nodded. “I know according to you, this prophecy says I must kill Veronious.”

  “Aye.”

  “So, once you have trained me to wield a sword with some efficiency I will seek him out and slay him.”

  Magnus snorted. “It will not be that easy.”

  He nodded. “Of course not. What then?”

  “We must first go on a quest.”

  Blinking, Roland frowned. “A quest?”

  “Usually these sorts of prophecies include necessary quests in order to complete all that is required.” Magnus shrugged.

  “All that is required? I thought all I had to do was hack this sorcerer to pieces.”

  “Do keep your voice down, you are shouting again.” Magnus studied him. “I said naught about hacking to pieces. One swift blow ought to do the trick.”

  “Very well, but should that not be easy enough? You as my guard will see that we get into Veronious’s castle, then I will make my way to wherever he is, you slaying his guards as we go, and then I strike the killing blow.”

  “Close enough, but there is something you fail to realize, Roland.”

  “What have you left out, Magnus?”

  Magnus gazed at Roland steadily. “Veronious will do everything in his power to see that you fail. Many obstacles will be put in our path. I will protect you with my life, but there will be difficult challenges facing you and vanquishing Veronious will only be a part of it. You cannot just stand by while I kill every man and creature sent our way. You will need to fight along the way.”

  Roland realized that Magnus was right. He did not want this fate, but if it was to be thrust upon him he would have to be an active participant. He would be forced to kill more than just Veronious. Roland was no killer and the thought of having to slay men who had only been sent to do what was asked of them, even if it was to kill Roland, did not sit well with him. And yet he must.

  “And there is more.”

  He knew there had to be, based on the very serious expression on Magnus’s face, as well as this talk of quests, but Roland dreaded what came next. He forced himself to be brave and ask, “What else?”

  “Veronious will not be destroyed by any ordinary sword. You must use a very special sword known as the Sword of Montcrief. Only when you wield this sword, will you succeed against Veronious.”

  “Montcrief?”

  “An ancient warrior known for a powerful sword. Legend has it he slew mighty warriors, sorcerers and dragons in his time.”

  “This is part of the prophecy?”

  Magnus nodded. “Yes”

  “Very well. You have this Sword of Montcrief, I presume.”

  “Nay.”

  “You do not?” Roland cried. “Do you have it hidden somewhere so that we can fetch it?”

  “It is hidden, but not by me.”

  Roland was certain he was developing a facial tic. His jaw pulsated he clenched it so tight. “Who then? Who hides this magical sword?”

  “It’s kept in a castle south of here.”

  “And we just journey there and take it?’” Roland knew before he asked it would not be so easy.

  “The castle is surrounded completely by a forest of thorn-covered vines,” Magnus admitted.

  The tic was back. “Thorn covered vines. We must find a way past these vines?”

  “Once we have passed the thorny vines we must get past the castle’s guardian.”

  “Guardian?”

  Magnus’s lips twisted in a ghost of a smile. “A dragon.”

  Chapter 5

  Magnus thought for a moment that Prince Roland would keel over. He’d gone so pale that his sky blue eyes stood out even more against the shockingly white skin. Perhaps it would have been wiser to withhold that information until Roland had better acclimated himself to his destiny.

  “It will be all right,” Magnus said soothingly, reaching an arm around Roland’s shoulders and drawing their bodies close.

  “How can you say that mere moments after mentioning a killer dragon guarding this castle?”

  “I did not say a killer dragon.”

  Roland stared at him. “You know of a dragon that is docile then?”

  Magnus shrugged. “I suppose I do not. You need not face the dragon, Roland. I will slay him for you.”

  “You-you will?”

  Roland looked so sad and frightened right then Magnus thought he might have promised him anything. He was aware, somewhere in the back of his head, he should not be so attached to his charge. But there was a great pull, a need, Magnus could not deny where Roland was concerned.

  And yet…he should fight it. Roland was a prince, some day to be king once he’d dispatched Veronious. Roland would be expected to marry a princess of another kingdom, probably to solidify some alliance, and he would have no time for a lovesick warrior lapping at his heels.

  Yet, Magnus leaned closer, his arm holding Roland too close, too similar to a caress. Their faces moved closer still, as though loathe to stop whatever seemed to be between them. Magnus’s mouth hovered above Roland’s, their breaths mingling.

  “I will,” Magnus promised before covering Roland’s lips with his own. It was a gentle touch, just a brush, the first time. A tease. But it was not nearly enough. His lips brushed the other man’s mouth again, testing, waiting for the moment Roland would push him away in disgust.

  “Please,” Roland whimpered, opening his mouth under Magnus’s.

  With a groan, Magnus pressed harder, deeper against those full, plump lips. They tasted sweet, somehow, and so addicting. His mind screamed at him to stop, but his body had other ideas. He didn’t stop Roland from crawling onto his lap; in fact, he supposed he encouraged it. The prince now had his arms looped around Magnus’s neck.

  Magnus slid his hand into the soft blond locks on Roland’s head, half-meaning to push him away, half-meaning to draw him closer. This was what he’d wanted to do the moment he set eyes on Roland in Amir. Never mind Roland was his charge. Still, though the prince was young, he was no young boy, and would soon have to face incredible tasks. He would let Roland make his mind up if he had no issue with Magnus kissing him. And wanting so much more.

  Their tongues molded together, seeking each other even as Magnus felt the rounded curve of one of the prince’s cheeks brush against his erection. Roland gasped a little, but did not break their lip-lock. Instead, he brushed against Magnus’s hard cock again and again, teasing Magnus into a near frenzy. He fisted that silky blond hair, his hip rising to meet the downward thrust of Roland’s buttock as they rubbed against each other. At that moment, he’d never wanted to be inside someone as much as he did Roland.

  But not out on rocks. Their first coupling would not be so quick, so dirty.

  Magnus pulled back, shaking with the effort for control. He stopped the words from spilling from Roland’s lips with his finger. “Inside the dwelling, Roland.”

  He squeezed Roland’s ass, then gently pushed him up off Magnus’s lap. He stood and reached for Roland’s hand. Once inside the hut he would give the prince every chance to change his mind.

  Roland, his eyes still hazy with lust, allowed himself to be led into the dwelling Magnus had determined to be the most habitable. Earlier he’d laid down some cloths that would serve as their beds.

  As soon as they were inside, he turned once more to Roland, cupping the back of his neck. Roland’s already plush lips were swollen from their kissing, so Magnus covered them once more. Pulling the prince close, their bodies flush against each other. There was no mistaking
Roland’s arousal even through his loose-fitting breeches. He moved his other hand between their bodies and covered the bulge, squeezing it lightly.

  Roland gasped. “Magnus!”

  He decided now was the time to make it very clear to Roland what would happen if they were both agreeable. He knew Roland had led a very sheltered life in Amir.

  After kissing Roland several more times, his hand continuing to squeeze Roland’s crotch, Magnus stopped long enough to speak. “I want you, Roland.”

  Roland nodded, trying to return to kissing Magnus.

  “Do you know what that means?” Magnus stopped Roland’s movement with a hand to his jaw. “Do you know what happens when men make love?”

  The prince seemed reluctant to speak, but let out a long breath. “I know when a man loves a woman, he enters her between her legs. Helen told me of this when I asked a few years back.”

  “This is so. There are many who would tell you the coupling between a man and woman is the only natural way. That it is to bear children and naught else.”

  Nodding his understanding, Roland asked, “But?”

  “I do not believe this to be true,” Magnus explained. “Making love between two people who both wish it and gain pleasure from it is not wrong. To me. I am unlike most men.”

  “How?”

  Magnus smiled a little. “Most men desire females and so they have no issue swiving women. But though I do not dislike women, I do not find them appealing in that way.”

  “You-you desire men?”

  “Yes, Roland.” He moved his hand to smooth over Roland’s ass. “When two men couple, one enters the other here, between the cheeks.”

  Roland stared at him, his eyes wider than before, but the lust still shone from them. And the hard ridge of his arousal still pressed against Magnus’s leg.

  “You understand?”

  The prince nodded. “Yes, Magnus.”

  “Lie down,” Magnus said.

  Roland obeyed immediately, lying on his back on the cloths Magnus had laid out for them. He dropped down next to Roland, curving a hand over Roland’s jaw and kissing him once more. He teased Roland’s tongue with his own, his hand roaming down to untie the waistband of Roland’s breeches.

  Trembling underneath him, Roland looped his arms around Magnus’s shoulders and shifted one leg to bend at the knee. Magnus slipped his hand inside the breeches and closed his fist around the tip of Roland’s cock.

  When Roland cried out, Magnus covered the sound with his mouth sliding over his. He flicked the tip with his thumb, rubbing a pearly drop over the slit. Since Roland was a virgin, Magnus thought he probably ought to take things a little slower with him than he might have otherwise. Perhaps mutually stroke them off this first time and work his way toward being inside him.

  Magnus moved his hand from Roland’s cock and Roland gasped in protest. “Easy, your highness. I just want to remove your breeches.”

  He tugged the breeches down to Roland’s knees, leaving them and his boots on. Reaching for Roland’s thick erection, he began to stroke him again, this time sliding his fist along the hard length. Roland arched against his hand, frantically kissing Magnus.

  With his other hand, Magnus fumbled with the opening of his own breeches, slipping his hand inside to grasp his aching cock. He stroked them both fast and vigorously, slanting his mouth over Roland’s, stealing both their breaths.

  He moved his hand up to the fat head of Roland’s cock, roughly squeezing it and working it. Roland whimpered low in his throat as he clung to Magnus, his body shaking.

  Roland tore his mouth from Magnus’s and yelled probably loud enough for two villages away to hear him as pearly white liquid shot from his cock and coated Magnus’s hand.

  Magnus reached for one of Roland’s hands and placed it on his shaft, showing Roland how to stroke him. Closing his eyes, he groaned at the unpracticed fingers skittered over his sensitive skin. Soon his balls tightened and he found his release with a roar of his own.

  “‘Twas amazing,” Roland said, panting against Magnus’s neck.

  “I must agree. Have you never touched yourself like this?”

  Roland shook his head. “Never. I was hardly alone in Amir. I would have been far too shamed to take such a liberty.”

  “You are beautiful, Roland. From what I have seen of you, you are well formed.” Magnus kissed him. “I would do more with you, but first, I think we should do some training.”

  Roland sighed. “Must we?”

  “Yes, my prince. Then we will have something to eat.” Magnus again kissed him. He didn’t seem to be able to stop touching his lips to Roland’s. “Tonight when the light has left us, I will swive with you.”

  Chapter 6

  Roland tore off a hunk of cooked rabbit meat and popped it into his mouth. Magnus had caught, killed, and cooked the rabbit over a small fire after they had finished training. They had then returned to the dwelling and were now sitting on the cloth Magnus had laid out earlier. It felt good to be resting again after spending a long time battling Magnus in a sword fight. His body ached everywhere, but according to Magnus he’d done well.

  “I am exhausted,” he said. “But I am glad to hear that my training went well.”

  Magnus nodded. “As can be expected.”

  He stretched out his legs to help with the stiffness. Frowning he asked, “As can be expected?”

  “Had you grown up with your royal family, you would have already been trained to fight for many years now. You are still far behind where you should be to take on Veronious.”

  Roland almost pointed out that he could hardly be held accountable for that, but he let it pass. “I wonder about them.”

  “Them?”

  “My parents.” He hung his head. “What are they like?”

  “I do not know them well, myself,” Magnus said. “What I do know is they are a fine king and queen. Very sad, I think, for the loss of you. But they knew what they had to do to protect you.”

  “I do not understand why Veronious has such power. If they are king and queen, why do they not cast him from the kingdom?”

  “He is a great sorcerer and since he has come to the kingdom the king and queen are more figureheads than actual rulers. The army takes orders from him now. He does not kill them because they are popular with the people, but do not make the mistake of believing that he would not if given reason. He spares your sisters for the same reason as they are no threat to him.”

  Roland sighed and wiped his greasy fingers on a cloth. “I am no threat to him either, apparently. Not much of one anyway, despite this prophecy of yours.”

  “No,” Magnus agreed. “But you will be eventually. With more training and the sword.”

  “And what will you do if I am incapable of this task destiny has thrown at me?”

  “You are.” Magnus said it so firmly, as though there was no room for argument.

  “And if I am not?”

  Magnus shook his head, his mouth grim. “This would not be your destiny if you could not do it.”

  He snorted. “Destiny is never wrong? The fates, whatever they be, never make a mistake? I may not even be able to find this special sword, let alone wield it. And then even if I do have this sword there will be legions of men trying to prevent it. I could be slain before I ever reach this Veronious.”

  “You will not be slain. I will protect you.”

  “You are amazing, Magnus, truly, but you are only one man, and as far as I know you cannot split into an army of a hundred. Chances are quite good that one or both of us will end up dead.”

  For a long time Magnus did not say anything and Roland supposed he was coming up with some other argument as to how they would easily conquer this sorcerer since it was their destiny.

  “What you say is true,” Magnus said, surprising him. “And also even if we make it to his lair with the sword and you slay him, the likelihood we will both be killed is high. The prophecy says naught about you surviving to rule the kingdom s
omeday.”

  Roland swallowed the heavy lump in his throat. “Does it say that I will lose my life completing this prophecy?”

  He shook his head. “It does not say.”

  “I see. Then it is entirely possible no matter the outcome I will die.”

  Magnus nodded. A muscle in his jaw ticked.

  “Then I may as well not face such a fate as a virgin,” he said softly. He rose to his knees and scooted closer to Magnus. He leaned in, staring into Magnus’s eyes. “I want to know all there is.”

  Magnus grasped his arms, holding him at a distance when Roland would have moved closer still. His eyes darkened, his nostrils flared and he looked almost angry. Roland held his breath, waiting to see what he would do next.

  Magnus lifted a hand to Roland’s hair and snaked the tresses in his fingers, pulling slightly as he crushed their mouths together. Roland’s groin tightened, thoughts of Magnus’s earlier ministrations upon him spiking the anticipation of what was to come. Magnus’s cock was large and the thought of such a thing inside Roland scared him a little, but not enough to deny what either of them desired.

  Their mouths opened and their tongues collided even as he felt Magnus tugging on his tunic. Pushing aside his own stomach flutters, Roland assisted Magnus with the removal of the tunic. Magnus pushed him gently down so he was lying prone, then he began to work on the lacings of Roland’s boots until he slipped them easily off his legs and feet.

  With Roland’s help they made short work of his breeches until he lay there nude to Magnus’s gaze. Though tempted to cover himself, Roland remained still, exposed, arms raised above his head, waiting for what Magnus would do next.

  Magnus raked his gaze over Roland, seemingly from head to toe. “You are stunning, Roland.”

  He shook his head, heat warming his cheeks. “I am thin and scrawny. You are the magnificent warrior.”

  Magnus smiled but did not reply as he quickly shed himself of the clothes he wore. Magnus’s skin had a sun-kissed cast to it, and his body was formed with defined muscles. His chest was covered with dark wiry hair that dipped down to his flat stomach and narrow hips.