Male Lovers of Silvery Earth Volume 2

by Barbara G. Tarn

  They quickly climbed a tree to look beyond the walls, and found the perfect escape. One wall of the garden bordered a narrow service alley. They climbed it, jumping down on the other side. They looked left and right, then rushed towards what felt like the shortest way out of town.

  The sun had fully risen by the time they ran away from the outskirts of the capital and followed the river into the luxuriant jungle. As they tried to find a way through the lush undergrowth, Kartik explained his plan of living as hunters or fishermen in some small village, and he saw Harish brighten.

  "Can we stop now? I'm tired and hungry and I need rest," Harish pleaded a little later. They had found a narrow track, and Kartik hoped it led somewhere.

  "I don't think we should stop in the middle of the jungle, not even in plain daylight," he replied. "Come on, our destination can't be far."

  He was right. Moments later they found a small temple under curtains of foliage. Inside was a single room barely bigger than Master Zahin's wagons, but it was clean, and the small altar still had offerings of flowers and food in front of the flat carving of a goddess with many arms.

  "There must be a village nearby," Kartik said as they sat on the stone floor. "We will find it before night." He absently gave Harish a piece of flat-bread he'd saved from their dinner, and studied his surroundings. He was a nomad, but he had enjoyed having a room and a steady roof over his head in Jevina. Maybe he could adapt to a settled life.

  He looked at Harish who was wolfing down the bread and smiled.

  "Gods, you're hungry! Do you want more?"

  Harish nodded with his mouth full. Kartik fished for another flat-bread. His own stomach was in a tight knot, so he wouldn't need it.

  Harish seemed to realize Kartik wasn't eating, and offered the second flat-bread, but Kartik refused it. He waited until Harish was done before speaking.

  "Do you want to talk about last night?"

  Harish darkened and his eyes dropped to the floor.

  "No," he whispered.

  "Did he hurt you?" Kartik insisted, worried.

  Harish smiled ruefully. "No. I can't be hurt anymore."

  "Do you still feel something?"

  "I try not to." Harish shrugged. "I retreat in my mind and let them do what they want." He hugged his knees and put his chin on them.

  Kartik sighed.

  "I'm sorry. I won't let it happen again," he promised, more to himself than anything. If he thought of all the men who had soiled Harish with their lust... He clenched his fists. That would make him a king murderer if he followed through with his desire to hurt them all.

  Harish's hand glided on his and he relaxed his fingers. He took the malformed hand in both his and kissed it.

  "What did the king say about this?" he asked.

  Harish winced. "He found it... entertaining."

  "Entertaining... how?" He stared puzzled at Harish's face.

  Harish retrieved his hand and hid it under his armpit, turning his head towards the temple door, obviously unwilling to discuss it. What could have the king found to be so entertaining about the malformed hand?

  "I'm tired," Harish said, lying down and curling up in fetal position.

  Kartik considered holding him, but even a light caress made Harish shiver, so he just sat with his hands in his lap.

  "Sweet dreams," he said, feeling dejected.

  ***

  Harish was finally happy. They'd found the village of hunters and fishermen and had been welcomed in the small community. They'd built a mud hut next to the others and moved in. Kartik went hunting every morning and Harish was learning how to skin and prepare the small animals his hunter brought back. The women of the village giggled at his first clumsy attempts, but then showed him how to do it.

  Days flew by as they made new friends, but more and more Harish looked forward to sunset, when they retired in their hut and locked the world outside. He often found himself hugging Kartik to sleep, and new waves of desire washed over him as their bodies came in contact. Kartik smelled good. Kartik's hands were gentle.

  And then one night his lips sought Kartik's skin and found the clean-shaven cheek and neck first. He heard Kartik gasp, but kept sucking and licking, trying to reach Kartik's mouth without moving his body, so well-nestled against his friend's.

  "Harish..." Kartik's voice was hoarse. "What are you doing?"

  Harish's bliss faded and he stopped. He'd hoped Kartik would feel like he did, but obviously it was brotherly love that had brought them to the village in the jungle, and nothing more. He suppressed a sigh.

  "Harish." Kartik's voice was more steady now. "Why did you do that?"

  "Because I want you," he grumbled, ashamed of himself. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have... I'm so unworthy!"

  "No! You're not unworthy." Kartik squeezed him tighter. "But... I thought you didn't like being touched after all the abuse."

  "I don't," he admitted. "I don't like lecherous rich men using my body. But you're not one of them."

  His hand glided over Kartik's body and met an unexpected bump. Startled, Harish pulled up to look at Kartik's face in the pale light of their single oil lamp. Kartik was hard!

  "Do you want me?" he asked, hopeful.

  "I don't want to hurt you." Again the unsteady voice – Kartik struggling with his own desire.

  "I know you won't hurt me!" Harish grinned. "I love you. Please, do what you want with me!"

  Kartik hesitated, caressing Harish's cheek. Then his hand slid on Harish's neck to pull him down.

  Their lips met in a deep, passionate kiss that took Harish's breath away.

  He'd lost his virginity a long time ago, but suddenly in Kartik's arms he felt like a virgin again. All the men and women who had used him vanished from his mind. Kartik was the first man touching him, a man worth living with or dying for.

  Harish was happy – and madly in love for the first time in his life – as he came in Kartik's arms.

  ***

  And then the king found them. He was out on a tiger hunt with his court when he spotted Kartik. The jester-turned-hunter tried to run away, but was quickly captured by the guards.

  "The acrobat can't be too far," the king said when Kartik refused to tell him where Harish was.

  There weren't many villages in the jungle and it didn't take long to the Royal Guard to find Harish. Both were tied up and put on elephant back to be taken to Jevina with the king.

  "I'm sorry," Kartik muttered. "I had sworn it would never happen again."

  "You can't kill the king," Harish replied ruefully. "If he touches me, I'll kill myself."

  "No!" Kartik protested, looking at his lover seated behind him. "Don't do it, Harish! He'll get bored and will release you. If you're dead, how can you come back to me?"

  Harish sniffled. "What if he kills you?"

  "In that case, join me as soon as you can. But don't do anything final until you know whether or not I live, all right?"

  Harish sniffled again, then whispered, "All right."

  They didn't say anything else as the elephant trudged on. When they reached Jevina, they were paraded in the streets like the tiger hide the king had gotten himself.

  His lustful stare was on them as the guards took them down from the elephant's back.

  "The hunter to the whip, for poaching," the king said. "Bring the other to me."

  Harish was dragged away as the guards bared Kartik's torso before attaching him to a pole to be whipped. Kartik clenched his teeth. Knowing Harish was forced to watch, he couldn't show any weakness. But around the twentieth lash, he lost consciousness without a moan.

  ***

  "Will you stop crying?" King Vijay demanded, pulling away from Harish's naked body. The young man didn't react as tears kept streaming down his cheeks. "I didn't kill him. Now, for the gods' sake, stop crying!"

  Harish blinked his tears away, but didn't say a word. He'd promised Kartik he wouldn't kill himself as long as his lover was alive, but he felt empty. The shame of the use and
abuse of the past had come back, full blown, and he hadn't put up much resistance against the king's passion. But he wasn't going to pretend he liked it either.

  The king snorted, put on a dressing gown and started pacing the ample bedroom. Harish didn't move from the canopied double bed, still seeing Kartik's bloodied back as they took him down and dragged him away to a cell. He hoped his beloved was recovering and that he'd soon be able to save him again.

  Although there wasn't much hope of escaping from a prison. But Kartik was a gypsy, and some said they could do magic. Maybe he could spellbind the jailor into freeing him. And then he'd come for Harish and kill the evil, lustful king...

  The king's hand roamed his body again, sending shivers of disgust down Harish's spine. He had no more tears, but his heart was still breaking in tiny little pieces. He wondered if he'd ever be able to patch it up again when the king's tongue invaded his mouth.

  And then the king brought another young man to the room who looked very much like a younger version of himself – Harish guessed it was probably his son. King Vijay immediately went to the bed where Harish lay.

  "Here he is! Isn't he gorgeous? Come, Vivek, check him."

  As if I were a stallion, Harish thought sourly.

  The noble youth came closer to inspect him. He looked obviously satisfied with what he saw as his eyes lingered on Harish's body. But when the young man's eyes reached his face, he gasped in shock.

  "Prince Rohit?" he blurted out, incredulous.

  Harish didn't react. Not another lustful noble who would join King Vijay in his games...

  "No, no, this is Harish, he's a jester," the king scolded.

  "Father, he looks exactly like the prince of Amrendra!" Vivek exclaimed. "I know you were taken by Prince Prem when they both came here, but I've seen Prince Rohit at the Amrendran court and this jester looks exactly like him!"

  "Oh, please!" The king sat on the bed and grabbed Harish's malformed hand. "Have you ever seen a prince like this? Come on, get naked with us, we're going to have fun!"

  "I'd feel like making love to my brother-in-law," the prince snapped, disgusted.

  "This is not Prince Rohit, he's an acrobat," his father retorted. "You have no idea what he can do if he feels like it! Come on, join the fun."

  Vivek turned his back and rushed out of the room. Harish refrained from sighing in relief. The king glared at him, and stomped out after his son.

  ***

  Kartik was surprised to be visited by a young nobleman who looked very much like the prince of Lakeshi. He could only guess that the king had introduced him to Harish. Kartik ignored the prince's stare, hoping they hadn't used Harish at the same time.

  The fever of the whipping was gone and even though his back still hurt, he was more worried for Harish than for himself. His body could take a beating, but Harish's couldn't take much more abuse.

  "Are you a nomad?" Prince Vivek asked bluntly.

  "Yes."

  "Where did you find that young man sleeping in my father's bed?"

  Kartik looked at the prince. Was he also obsessed with Harish?

  "I'm not the one forcing him to have sex," he blurted out.

  "I'm not forcing him either," the prince replied with contempt. "I think he's of noble origin, and I know you gypsies tend to steal..."

  Kartik scoffed. "I've never stolen anything in my life, nor have any of my tribe. But lots of lusty rich and noble men have stolen Harish's innocence."

  "Where did you find Harish?" the prince asked again through clenched teeth.

  Kartik stared at him then decided to answer.

  "I met him in an itinerant circus ten years ago. I left my tribe to join those jesters, and he was already part of their company."

  "Was he a family member?"

  "No, he was an orphan. Master Zahin had bought and trained him to be a juggler-dancer-acrobat."

  "Where do I find this Master Zahin?"

  "I don't know. We ran away from the circus a month ago. I was sick of seeing Zahin pimping Harish after the shows."

  "You mean he sold his body?"

  Kartik nodded somberly.

  "I told you, I'm not the one who is abusing Harish," he muttered.

  The young man stormed away with pursed lips.

  ***

  "Kartik, I can't take it anymore." Harish crouched by the cell's bars. "The king even invited his son to join us, although the prince refused, saying I reminded him of another prince..."

  Kartik came forward to sit next to the bars, moving on his hands and knees, so Harish wondered if he'd really recovered from the whipping like he had assured. When Kartik's hand touched his cheek, Harish closed his eyes. He so wanted to hide in Kartik's arms, even if his beloved was dirty and unshaven and probably still hurt... He'd kiss his bruises one by one, forgetting his own pain and sorrow.

  "The prince also came to me, asking questions about your past," Kartik said. "Harish, maybe you are a prince. I've known you only as an orphan, and maybe not even Master Zahin knows where you actually come from, but if someone saw princely features in you, maybe you'll soon be free."

  Harish kissed Kartik's palm. He still felt like crying, and just wanted to die, and put an end to his misery. He couldn't believe a prince would be left living as an orphan and jester for all those years. And how could they tell who he was from his looks anyway?

  The only very recognizable thing he had was his malformed hand – which might have been the very reason he'd been thrown away. Who would want a prince with a hand like his?

  "Hold on, Harish." Kartik insisted. "I've tried to corrupt some of the guards, but they're all too scared for their asses to do something against the king's lust. If the prince shows up again, try to talk to him. He may be your only way out of his father's bedroom."

  Harish sniffled. "All right," he whispered, keeping Kartik's warm palm against his cheek. He wasn't really keen on kissing the bearded face, but the caresses were enough for now.

  "I know you're strong." Kartik flashed a smile at him. "You've been through much, but I'm sure your ordeal is almost over. Don't do anything stupid, and before you know it, we'll be out of here."

  Harish lost himself in Kartik's black eyes. "I love you," he mouthed. Kartik's hand ruffled his hair as his teeth flashed again through his black beard.

  "Go now." Kartik retired to the back of the cell where Harish had found him.

  Reluctantly, Harish got up and left the prison. Here he was, dressed better than he'd ever been, fed and sheltered, but prisoner of a king's lust. When would he be free to live how he wanted, loving whoever he wanted, without having to obey orders of cruel or lustful masters?

  At the door of the king's apartment he saw Prince Vivek approaching with a young couple. He stopped, remembering Kartik's words. Maybe Prince Vivek was his only way out.

  "Rohit!" the maiden of the couple exclaimed as they approached. "How did you get here?"

  Harish looked at her, confused, then noticed Prince Vivek's triumphant smile.

  "So it is as I thought," the prince said. "He is your brother's lookalike."

  The three noble youths reached him and surrounded him, observing him from all angles. Harish blushed and tried to concentrate on Prince Vivek.

  "My lord, I was wondering if you could talk your father into releasing me and Kartik..." he started hesitantly.

  "And that's why I wanted you to meet my brother's betrothed, Kareena of Amrendra," the prince replied with a grin.

  The maiden gasped as she caught a glimpse of his hand, and then she took it to observe it better, frowning.

  "Not Rohit," she said at last, looking him in the eyes. "But maybe his lost twin? I will have to write to my father. I never knew Rohit had a twin."

  "But Amrendra has twin kings," Prince Vivek said. "And they're identical – one can't tell them apart."

  The princess smiled. "We can tell which is our father and which our uncle." She squeezed Harish's malformed hand. "If you really are my brother, don't worry, you'll
be out of here soon."

  Harish offered her a tentative smile as his heart opened to hope.

  ***

  Rohit entered the Lakeshian great hall still puzzled by the reason for his visit. Kareena's letter had brought tears to his father's eyes and plunged his uncle in an unusual silence. He'd been sent to check the facts, but couldn't believe he'd never been told before that he'd had a twin.

  He'd always considered his cousin Ajay as "almost" twin, since they were born one day apart. The thought of a real twin wasn't so upsetting, though. A part of him had always felt like he was living a second life, although he couldn't say much about it.

  King Vijay welcomed him with a frown – evidence that he wasn't happy his latest bed-toy looked like a prince. Rohit didn't care what his father-in-law did in his bedroom, but he was anxious to meet his lookalike.

  King Vijay grumpily called for "Harish" and dismissed the courtiers. Only Prince Vivek, Prince Vasant and Kareena stayed in the great hall with the king to witness the meeting and hear what his father had to say on the matter. King Daruka had recommended he see the young man and listen to his heart before delivering the news.

  And then the jester arrived, his eyes to the floor like a servant, and stopped near the king with a curt bow. His hair was longer than Rohit's, but he was clean-shaven and decently dressed – probably by the king. And yes, the jester was a replica of the prince heir of Amrendra.

  Rohit's eyes went to the jester's right hand. His father had told him his twin brother had been sort of imperfect, hence when he'd vanished, everyone had just assumed he'd died. Rohit's heart pounded faster when he saw the malformed hand.

  He took a deep breath to calm down and looked at King Vijay.

  "I must thank you on behalf of my father, King Daruka. He sent me here knowing I could recognize a twin I never knew I had. Rahul vanished when he was still a sickly baby and everybody at the Amrendran court simply thought he hadn't survived. It is a miracle to see him here today, alive and healthy, twenty-five years later. I thank you for taking him under your wing, but I beg you to allow me to take my brother home, where he belongs."