Defiance Ch. 03

"No, but their kind often seem like it. You're lucky that one isn't a full blood, if he was things would be a lot more difficult." He clasped his eldest son hard on the shoulder. "Go put him back then son. Like you said before, he's small and sick. You can handle him."

Lucas sighed and jumped down in front of the smaller man. Now that the fever had passed Lukas was able to study the other mans unusual amber eyes in earnest. His skin, though not quite so dark as Lucas's own, was a pleasant copper shade beneath the bruises. An unusually exotic face comprised of sharp features and a nicely shaped chin lent him an appealing quality that could not be entirely diminished by the scowl on his face. "Calm down!" Lucas said gently. "We're not going to hurt you."

"Why am I tied?" he demanded, "And why am I here? Who are you?"

"My names Lucas, you're here because we found you face down in the middle of the road and you're tied because last time you woke up you tried to attack us."

"You attacked me!" he yelled. "I was just trying to stand up."

Lucas had to concede that that wasn't entirely untrue. The stranger had scared him and he'd reacted in fear. "I'm sorry about that but before we put you in the wagon you did try to stab me." He opened his hands wide. "I won't try to hurt you again, as long as you promise to do the same. Do we have a deal?"

"Untie me!" he yelled.

Lucas rolled his eyes slightly. Why were things never easy? He walked over to the younger man and caught his tied hands. Before his guest could object he vaulted him up over his shoulder and carried him back to the wagon. He heard laughter behind him but was a little preoccupied with his struggling passenger. He dropped the other man onto the pallet a little more roughly that was probably necessary, especially considering his battered ribs, and drew out some more rope. The strange watched him, his breath coming out in short wheezes as he valiantly held in the pain he must have felt. When Lucas bent down and caught his ankle he tried to shuffle away.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his eyes huge as he tried to kick his leg free from Lucas's grasp. He let out a dry sob when the older man began to tether his legs to the pallet. "Don't!" he pleaded, the anger gone, replaced with what was quite obviously fear. Lucas was more gentle with the strangers other leg because the wound on his ankle. Never the less he made sure his guest wouldn't be able to kick him self free. He caught the strangers tied wrists and tethered them to the top of the pallet with a short length of rope. Bending down to look him in the eye he tested the bonds, making sure they wouldn't give.

"You calm down and stop making demands and I'll untie you. Understand?"

He thought he had quelled the younger mans fiery temper, he was wrong. The little whelp spat at him! He wiped the spittle of his face and grinned at the boy as he wiped the spit onto the lads head. "You're a little old for tantrums my friend." He straightened up, shaking his head in wonder as the half blood strained against his bonds to attack him. Lucas's father was right. He really didn't want to meat a full blooded northerner.

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Tate stared listlessly at the wagon wall, trying to fight the numbing boredom that was slowly driving him insane. How many days have I spent tied to this pallet? He wondered as he sat up and tried to rub some of the feeling back into his ankles. He wanted to stand up, to move and walk. He would have done almost anything to be able to take a run around his father's estate. He jumped a little when the wagon door opened and Lucas stepped threw. Tate caught a quick glimpse of the darkening sky outside before the door closed and he was trapped back in the box.

Tate noticed the tonic and water in the tinker's arms and shuddered inwardly. He glared at as the other man moved busily around the cabin, studiously ignoring Tate. A few days ago the half-blood would have done everything in his power to attack the gypsy but finally he had to concede that he could not beat him tied and injured as he was.

Tate felt a wave of distaste pass through him as the tinker bent beside him and began prodding at the wound on his leg. All his life he had been told that the traveling folk were the worse kind of scum, that they were weak, disease ridden thieves that spent their lives living off hand outs of others. Looking at the elder mans strangely woven blonde hair and overly cheerful expression Tate had to admit that the tinker wouldn't pass for any sort of warrior among his people. But then to be fair, neither had he.

"I'm sure it isn't infected." He announced happily, making no comment towards Tate's sudden calm. "You're lucky we found you when we did."

Tate stared at him; barely resisting the urge to push the other mans hand of his leg. The tinker must have noticed his unease because he suddenly looked down at his own hand and back up at Tate. Sighing, he crossed his arms over his chest and lent back. "I had thought you an outlander, and as such removed from the barbarians rustic views."

Tate looked away, slightly embarrassed. "I don't like being touched." He said eventually. He looked challengingly back at the other man. "By anyone."

He shrugged. "Suit your self. Of course if I can't touch you then I can't really help you much either." Standing up he reached out and opened a cupboard above Tate's head. He pulled off his shirt and trousers and placed them inside. He smiled when he noticed Tate was staring at him. He opened him mouth but his words were lost as the younger brother barged into the room. He began jabbering to Lucas in their own language and the words were lost on Tate. He stared as the two men moved fluidly around the small wagon and wondered how such large men could stand being trapped in such a small place. They seemed to make use of every available space, hardly even touching as they made ready for bed.

Tate pulled his legs up against his chest as the elder of the two reached out and tested the bonds that kept Tate hobbled. Tate resisted the urge to pounce on him and endured the tinker's smug smile as the ropes were tightened. It hurt but he'd been damned if he'd let the smug bastard know it.

The younger brother blew out their candle and settled into his cot. Tate expected Lucas to sleep on the floor as he had every other night. He let out a surprised grunt when the older man pushed him flat on his back. "What are you doing?" he hissed as Lucas crawled over him and lay down on the pallet with his back against the wagon's wall. He tried to slide off the pallet edge but there wasn't enough give in is bindings.

"I'm trying to go to sleep. I can't endure another night on that floor."

"Then I'll sleep on it!"

"I'm too tired to undo your bindings again. Just lie still and go to sleep." The tinker's arms wound its self against Tate's waist, forcing him further into Lucas's chest.

With his arms and legs bound there was little Tate could do other than squirm. He began fidgeting, long after he heard the other tinker's light snoring. He wanted to start yelling, to fight, but he had finally learned that he could not beat the tinker. Maybe if he had a weapon of some sort, a sword or dagger, then he would finally be able to wipe the smug smile of the bastards face. He bucked angrily, his humiliation and despair battling to out do one another as he lay helpless in the arms of his enemy. He felt movement behind him, good! Why allow the bastard to sleep when I cannot. He bucked again, harder this time. He was shocked when he heard light laughter in his ear. "My friend, unless you want us to become far more familiar I would stop wiggling around. Its -- distracting... "

Tate stopped what he was doing because his body tensed in fury. He opened his mouth but a hand slapped over it, muffling his bellows. The laughter in his ears grew more amused. "Calm your self; I'm not going to do anything to you, especially with my brother lying across from us. Now please, be quiet and go to sleep." Tate waited until the hand fell away from his mouth before he swore vehemently but quietly. He heard the laughter again; softer than before and soon after a soft and regular breathing pushing against his ears and though Tate thought sleep it finally beat him into sweet nothingness. *****************

Tate was warm and comfortable as he woke up the next morning. There was a slight thudding noise against his ear that threatened to lull him back to sleep so he stretched his arms, feeling a sudden sense of confusion when they refused to uncoil. His eyes opened wide as everything suddenly dawned on him and he found him self lying half on top of the tinker's chest. He tried to sit up but his bound legs were trapped beneath the tinker's powerful legs. He could feel the other mans chin resting against the top of his head and debated shooting upwards. He tried to move but the bastard's arm was still tight around his midsection. He was stuck.

"Let go!" He snarled, punching the other mans chest. He heard a slight grunt above him as the arm around his waist flexed slightly. "Did you hear me? I said get off!"

"Be quiet," The tinker said lazily. "Go back to sleep."

Tate punched him again, harder than before. "Let me go!" he hissed.

Tate let out an undignified squeak as he felt flexed finger's squeeze the flesh on his backside. He hadn't even noticed the tinker work his hands down his trousers. The other man squeezed hard until Tate strained his body to try and relieve some of the pain. Too late he realized that he just forced him self into the gypsy's full manhood. He tried to pull back but the other man kept him pined, slowly grinding their dicks together until Tate felt him self begin to rise. He gasped in pleasure as Lucas's other hand began massaging his backside. Lucas simultaneously lent down and pressed his lips against Tate's; forcing his tongue into the smaller mans mouth as he slowly bucked against him. Despite him Tate's hips started to move on their own accord. A tongue trailed up Tate's neck and pressed into his ear. "Do you want me to stop?" a smooth voice asked sweetly.

"Ugh!" Tate gasped, bucking harder into the larger man.

He heard the same mocking laughter as he felt a finger run down the crack of his arse. Suddenly a large finger was being pressed into his hole. "So tight." Lucas gasped in wonder. Tate whimpered loudly as he felt something pressed deep within him. A warn hand worked his trousers down his to his ankles and grasped his dripping dick. Tate couldn't stop the low moans as his body was stimulated beyond his wildest dreams. The jerks on his dick became harder as the finger inside of him continued to apply pressure on that spot.

He finally rolled of Tate and stood up. He looked down at him for a while before eventually leaning forward and loosening the ties around his wrists and ankles. "Are you letting me go?" Tate asked, confused.

The tinker smiled, more mockingly than ever before. "If we do let you go what will you do with your new found freedom. You have no money, no weapons? When we found you were bleeding and broken. If I let you lose how long will you last before you kill your self, or before someone else dose the job for you?"

Tate slowly rubbed the circulation back into his arms as he tried to stand up. He managed, with the aid of the pallet. "At least it would be by choice." He stepped up, ignoring the pain that coursed through his damaged ankle. "And what do you care. You're not my kin."

"Tell me your name?" He asked softly, confusing Tate thoroughly as the younger man hobbled towards the wagon door.

He thought about it for a moment and smiled. "Guess."