8. Sword of Zara #3
To the king’s amazement, Toma did take it all.
The king had never fully sheathed his sword; he had killed many a wife and concubine trying to do so.
And after the king had given over his seed, Toma refused to release him, clamping down his channel muscles tight and demanding a second ride and then a third—until the king, virile as he was, had no more kingly seed to give, no more power in his pelvis and thigh and buttocks muscles, and just lay back, exhausted and sighing the satisfaction of total fulfillment.
Toma slithered up to where his lips were at the ear of the king now.
But the king spoke first. “You are no innocent young lad, you are a king’s catamite, are you not?”
“Yes, lord, Toma answered in a whisper. I was the Duke of Sorso’s catamite, but he did not satisfy me, and then the Duke of Jerzu’s, and he did not satisfy me.
And then both dukes at once, and still they did not satisfy me.
Three men have I taken at once, and still I was not touched to the quick.
I went to the prince, and he did not satisfy me.
But I satisfied him, and he confided in me.
And I had heard about you and that you had the most magnificent member in all the world.
And so I came to you. And you satisfy me, my lord.
You, today, have reached me to the very center—not once but three times. You are an elephant of men.”
They kissed, the king’s vanity stroked to the limit, lost in love, blind to love and his Nubian lover from this point forward.
“And in your satisfying of me, I must tell you all. I must whisper it in your ear as even the walls of your palace have ears and tongues that speak to the Prince of Madness. You must not believe in your oracle. The Prince of Madness has suborned your oracle. It is not the beach at Cefalu where the attack will occur. It is the beach of Gela, on the other side of the island. You must gather your forces there.”
“But the oracle—”
“Bought and paid for by the Prince of Madness, who is not really that. He is really the Prince of Darkness. I know as no other man does. His cock is as long as yours, but it is not as thick. It is not an honest sword. It is a serpent’s tongue, hissing and slithering inside me.
I cannot let this prince prevail over you. That is why I have come to you.”
“But I go to the oracle tomorrow.”
“No matter what it says, you must announce the truth and prepare for war in the right place. But now you must sheath your sword inside me once again. The very quick of me wants to feel the prick of your blade tip.”
The cries and sighs and moans emitted by Toma during this fourth cocking assured the king that he satisfied his Nubian lover in each sheathing more than the previous one.
The next day King Zara made the last of three ceremonial visits to the oracle. And, sure enough, the word that was whispered and echoed all around the smoky cave walls was “Cefalu.”
“What can I do?” the king asked his new catamite when he returned.
“I certainly cannot tell my people that my Nubian lover has told me the oracle of Noto lies. They would pull me apart limb from limb and feed me to the Galotes. I am not mighty enough to withstand all of the men who would align against me. And they think you are dead, anyway, sacrificed on the altar of the sun.”
“There is no problem, King,” Toma whispered in the king’s ear as he pushed the king on his back and straddled his hips and began his own soothing ritual once more.
“You go alone to the cave. Merely say that you went in and the name whispered was ‘Gela.’ And that as you were leaving, the cave in confusion, the oracle called you back—twice—and the name ‘Gela’ echoed each time, providing the three declarations that told you the truth.”
“I don’t know. I . . . Oh . . . my ancestors!” Toma had descended full way on the Sword of Zara and was sheathing and unsheathing it and melting away all of the king’s concerns and reason.
On the day of his departure, as the king was putting on his armament before leaving the palace at Enna, Toma came to him. “Let me go with you, King Zara. Let me show my loyalty and pledge of truth by riding with you.”
“No, little one,” the king replied. “You ride with me as far as the village of Favara, in heavy disguise, but no further than that. You are unknown in my world, having already been thought to have been sacrificed to the Sword of Zara on the altar of the sun. I cannot give you up, but neither can I display you. And I cannot trust those I am leaving here to protect you. It’s a simple village, but they are my kinsmen, and they will give you sanctuary.
There will be no guards, no sign that the king’s most precious treasure resides there. ”
On the day of the invasion of the island of Adrano, in the month that Adrano came under the sway of the country of Fonni, Toma was standing tall on the cliff overlooking the beach at Cefalu to welcome the arrival of his sovereign and lover, the Prince of Madness, and a mighty force that included the contingents of the Dukes of Sorso and Jerzu.
The allied forces were already inside the walls of the capital of Enna before the army of King Zara, standing patiently and looking out to sea at Gela, even realized that they had been duped by a small Nubian spy with a talent fit for a king.