Written in the Stars

"Effendi Viktor," the boy lisped. "Effendi Gatrack needs help at the Hotel. Can you come straight away?"

"I'll come with you," Alonso offered but Viktor shook his head.

"The Professor is just over there. Join him and continue to enjoy the market. I won't be long. If you've already started back to the camp, I'll meet you there."

Viktor watched as Alonso headed swiftly in the direction of Evander before striding away. As such he did not see that his beloved never made it to the safety of his mentor's side.

"Move wrongly or cry out and you die, boy," the voice hissed into his ear as a sharp knife dug into his side. "Turn right into that alleyway. Move."

Alonso was too shocked to make any attempt to disobey. Once inside the dark, dank alley, he was shoved roughly against a hard wall, the roughness scraping the soft skin of his cheek.

"What do you want of me?" he asked fearfully. He had little money and his assailant was methodically checking his pockets. He tried to move as his attacker's hands curled at his groin, moving to touch him with a familiarity to which they had no right. He received a stunning blow to the base of his skull for his efforts. Dazed he felt rope encircle his throat and then tie his hands tightly behind him. A move of his arms tightened the rope around his neck and he whimpered.

"Why are you doing this?" he cried before a dirty rag was pushed between his teeth and tied behind his head.

"To hurt the man who loves you. To watch Viktor Morte blame himself for leaving you alone to vanish forever.

As tears began to fall, another, harder blow to Alonso rendered the young man unconscious. Nobody attempted to stop Hamak as he strode from the alley to where his horse was tethered. As he readied the boy to throw across his mount, Hamak's eye caught the glint of the suncharm. Smiling coldly, Hamak removed the trinket and absently fastened it around his own throat until he returned to camp.

"El-Sidar will decorate you with other charms as befits his new concubine," the dark man chuckled malevolently. It was the perfect revenge; delivering the boy beloved of Death to a man who would pay him for the privilege. Pushing the limp body over his horse, Hamak mounted and rode away.

***********

When Alonso's eyes fluttered open he was still bound and gagged but inside a tent he did not know. All it contained was a pile of cushions next to the central support pole. He whimpered fearfully around the dirty cloth as he heard Hamak's voice and then he and a stranger entered the tent.

The stranger was at least as tall and powerful as Viktor, but dark to his lover's light. Straight raven black hair fell below his shoulders, held back from his face by a gold circlet. His dark beard was close cropped and his dark eyes seemed to glitter like jet. He could nearly be regarded as attractive.

Nearly.

If you ignored the aura of menace that seemed to surround the man like a mantle.

If you ignored the glitter of lust in the dark eyes.

If you ignored the cruel, leering smile that played around thin lips.

Alonso shuddered.

"He is indeed very pretty to the eye, Hamak," the man's voice was cultured and oily. "You claim him to be chaste?"

"Indeed, my lord," Hamak simpered. "He has not been taken by his lover."

"If he is less than you say, you will regret it," the dark man growled. He smiled again, licking his lips. "However, if he is as you say I will be well pleased with you." He tossed a bag of coins to the obsequious man. "Untie him that I may see him properly."

Alonso tried to shuffle away as he was cut free, but there was nowhere for him to go and he stared with wide, frightened eyes as the big, dark man crouched beside him.

"I am Mahoud-el-Sidar," the big man said proudly as he reached to touch Alonso's chafed throat.

"Please don't," he pleaded. "Please. Let me go home." At the image of Viktor's face that appeared as he spoke the word 'home', tears fell from Alonso's eyes.

"This is your home now, boy," El-Sidar replied. "My guards patrol the camp. If you attempt to run away," he gripped Alonso's chin so tightly that the young man whimpered in pain. "They will bring you back and you will be punished. If you accept your place as my newest concubine and obey me, then it will not be unpleasant for you here." He stroked the boy's smooth cheek. His finger caught a teardrop and he brought it to his lips to lick it clean. "Sweet," he whispered. "I have guests to entertain now, but I will have some of my boys prepare you to be received by me and we will know each other tonight...intimately." He leered at the slender, supine form, ignoring the sobs that now wracked Alonso's body. "When I take you, I will name you, as I name all my concubines. Rest now, my pet. You will need all your energy... for later."

As Hamak followed the bigger man from he tent, Alonso crawled to the cushions, buried his face and cried hysterically. //Please, Viktor, please, please find me soon// he prayed. The events of the day, the fear, the exhaustion, slowly and insidiously took their toll on the fragile young man. Blackness enveloped Alonso as he lost consciousness.

**********

At the camp, frantic searches were ongoing. Viktor had found that there was no Gatrack waiting for him at the Hotel. He had unsuccessfully enquired of his friend's whereabouts and with mounting fear and concern had returned to the market. When he reached the market, Evander and the boys had already left in the truck. He had gone to hire a horse and ridden to the camp only to find Alonso was not with his mentor and their students. Gatrack had immediately taken the truck and returned to town. As a precaution that Alonso had not simply got a ride with others from the site, the whole area was being thoroughly checked.

Evander's students stood in a huddle by their teacher. The idea that Alonso could have simply vanished underscoring all the warnings they had previously taken so lightly. They cast frightened glances at the worried faces of the older men around them.

"He would not have gone voluntarily with a stranger," Evander said emphatically. "He knows the dangers well. Why did you leave him, Viktor?"

"He was so close to you I thought him safe," Viktor turned anguished eyes on the older man.

"I'm sorry, Viktor," Evander said, suddenly contrite. The blond was probably blaming himself enough and his pain was there for all to see. "I didn't mean it. I know you would never have just left Alonso."

"I should have walked him to you," Viktor groaned. "It's all my fault."

A crowd of workers gathered around the small group. Into the group sidled Hamak. He kept his lower face covered as he smiled to see the pain on the face of his avowed nemesis.

A sudden movement and struggle in the group of workers had Viktor and the others running to see what was happening.

Hamak lay on his back. Gatrack straddled him with a look of such hatred and fury that the four students pressed closer together for comfort.

"A self-centred animal such as you knows nothing about charity," Gatrack hissed. "I regularly give pennies to the children of the town. So when I asked about one being told to give Viktor a message from me it took little time for that boy to be found and for him to describe you, Hamak."

A choked exclamation from Viktor had everyone's attention shifting to the blond.

"That necklace," he whispered and reached to snatch it from Hamak's neck. "I only bought it for Alonso this morning at the market."

Hamak felt a chill run through his body. He had been prepared to simply deny seeing the boy. He cursed his stupidity for not removing the charm sooner. However, that quickly became a moot issue as another worker came running calling for Gatrack.

"Effendi Gatrack," the man huffed. "I found this hidden amongst Hamak's belongings." The bag of coins for selling Alonso was held aloft and Hamak heard the murmurings of the men around him intensify. "He has sold the boy." The words caused a ripple through the onlookers. Alonso was a known and popular young man. The crowd moved closer to the bodies on the sand.

"Evander," said Gatrack steadily. "Please take yourself and our boys to the big tent and stay there."

"Gat..." Evander began.

"If you want us to find Alonso and bring him home, please do as I say," Gatrack said his voice commanding. "Go, Evander, please and take our boys," he added more softly.

Without another word, the older man ushered his wards to the tent. The look in Gatrack's eyes told the Professor he did not want to know what methods Gatrack was prepared to use to get what he needed. As far as Evander was concerned, he cared only for the safe return of his beloved Alonso.

As soon as Evander was gone, Gatrack pressed his knife harder into the Egyptian's throat.

"I can unman you and leave you to bleed and die slowly," he hissed malevolently. "Or you can tell me where you took Alonso. The choice is yours."

Hamak swallowed nervously. He did not fear the blond man, but the dark, twisted creature squatting above him...this man he feared.

"I sold him to El-Sidar," he whispered, hoping the truth would save him.

An angry murmur rippled loudly through the crowd. The thought of the beautiful innocent in the camp of such a monster angered the men.

"You sold Alonso to that vile creature?" Gatrack growled. "What did he ever do to you?"

"Not him," Hamak said sullenly. "Death. I wanted him to suffer."

"You wanted to make Viktor suffer and so you sold a pure soul like Alonso into the clutches of a devil like Sidar."

At Gatrack's words, Viktor gave a cry of pain and grief and lunged forward.

He was too slow.

With economy of movement, Gatrack slid his knife dispassionately across Hamak's throat severing the carotid artery with ease. He stood, ignoring the bleeding body and spoke to the assembled men.

"In addition to the bag of coin, divide amongst you whatever else of Hamak's there is of value. Take that," he waved in the direction of the corpse. "Into the desert and bury it for the garbage that it is. From this day forth, the name of Hamak ceases to exist."

"The boy?" one man asked as others moved to unquestioningly obey the dark man that now seemed to burn with an inner fire.

"I will go to the camp of Mahoud-el-Sidar to bring him home."

The man nodded and hurried to help the others.

"We will go," Viktor said moving to stand by the smaller man. He barely recognised this Gatrack, but had no intention of being left behind. He met Gatrack's expressionless eyes levelly.

"You saw what I just did, Viktor. You are not a man to kill in cold blood. Could you kill? If you came face to face with Sidar's guard could you do as I have just done? It can make the difference between getting Alonso out alive and us all being at that monster's mercy."

"I will do anything I have to, to get Alonso back," Viktor vowed.

"One other thing you have to face," Gatrack said laying a hand on Viktor's arm and the blond saw the pain in the smaller man's eyes as he next spoke. "Even if we find Alonso alive, he may already have been ...sullied. Are you strong enough to bear that for him?"

"I love him," Viktor replied decisively. "I want him at my side for the rest of our lives. Nothing will change that."

Eyes as hard as emerald locked with those of blazing sapphire.

"Arm yourself," Gatrack directed. "Guns if you must, but knives are silent as well as deadly. We can take the truck with a couple of horses. The truck we can't drive all the way to the camp, the horses will take us the final part of the way. We can leave them to find their way back to camp once we have Alonso in the truck."

***********

In his tent prison Alonso looked up as four young men entered. He scuttled against the tent pole as he regarded them fearfully. Three were clearly Egyptian, dark of skin, hair and eyes. Two looked to be about his height or a little taller and of broader build and the third seemed smaller and younger. The fourth was small and slender and had light brown hair. He wore a yashmak beneath his eyes, only one of which could be seen and which regarded Alonso with a blue stare. One side of his face had his locks pulled and secured behind his ear; the other side was covered by a long and freshly combed curtain of shining tresses.

"Who are you? What do you want with me?" Alonso asked hoarsely.

"I am Taurus. We are concubines of El- Sidar. We have been ordered to prepare you for him," the bigger and broader of the three dark young men spoke.

"Please," Alonso begged. "Don't do this to me. Please let me go."

"We cannot, beautiful one," Taurus said sadly as he slowly approached the frightened young man. "Our master's guards are everywhere. You would not get far and then all of us would be punished."

"We know what it is to fear," the smallest of the trio spoke. "If we could do anything to help you we would, but there is no escape from here."

"This is Midnight," Taurus said. "The other is Orion. They are my only light in this dark life."

"As you are ours," Orion smiled as his companion.

He then indicated the lighter coloured young man. "This is Half-Moon. His previous master scarred him for disobedience. None save our master may gaze on his face. He is denied even such love and companionship as we three share. He must sleep in a tent alone."

"We have to wash, oil and dress you," Half-Moon explained. "Tonight you are to be taken by the master and he will then choose your new name."

"I have never given myself," Alonso sobbed. "We were to wait until we returned home. It was to be the consummation of our love not... not..."

Sobbing again wracked the slender form and Alonso was aware of strong arms that drew him into a tender embrace and hands that stroked and petted as the four young slaves tried to bring a measure of comfort to the terrified young man in a place in which there was little love or mercy to be found.

**************

Gatrack and Viktor had left the truck and rode hard and fast as evening began to fall. Each man prayed fervently that Alonso be spared and vowed that, no matter what, the beautiful young man would still hold his special place in their hearts. They reined in the horses as smoke arising from behind a dune heralded the camp they sought. Tethering the horses and hobbling them, the two men crawled cautiously to the crest of the dune.

Several tents were dotted around and men in dark garb wandered seemingly aimlessly. The largest tent had two of the dark-dressed men, clearly guards, standing outside.

"El-Sidar will be in the guarded tent, but Alonso may be in any of the others," Gatrack surmised. As they watched a guard exited the tent and headed towards the outskirts of the camp in their direction.

"Do you have a plan?" Viktor whispered.

"Get in, find Alonso, get out," Gatrack replied. "Did I miss anything?"

"Alive. Get out alive," Viktor said with a grim smile.

"We would be best splitting up and that looks like a good opportunity for you to look more like a guard." Gatrack indicated the lone man who clearly intended to take care of personal ablutions. "Remember what I said," Gatrack whispered as he vanished.

Viktor regarded his prey silently. He was not a cold-blooded killer, but he would do whatever it took to free his lover from this place of evil.

He stalked forward, silent and deadly.

************

The guard walked laconically into camp and was ushered back into the large tent. He took up his place not far from the opening and took in the sights. El-Sidar sat on a large throne watching two of his dancers.

The young woman wore little more than gold discs to cover her nipples and the diaphanous gold skirt was as good as transparent. The young man wore what amounted to two short scraps of silk to cover his genitals and buttocks, held in place by golden chains. As he spun, his audience were repeatedly treated to glimpses of what the material purported to hide. He wore a gold collar from which a thin gold chain led down to attach to another chain stretched between two thin gold loops that pierced his nipples. The chain then continued down to attach to a piercing at his navel. As he shimmied, the chains glittered and a couple of charms attached to them tinkled.

The newcomer could see that there were a few more young men and women reclining almost naked. Some of whom looked with drug-glazed eyes without seeing and there were just a couple of other guards. El-Sidar wore opulent clothing, extravagant jewellery and smile of self-satisfaction as he reached repeatedly to caress the bare shoulder of the young man who sat at his feet in front of him. The man's breath caught in his throat as he looked at the newest concubine.

The dark curls shone like a halo and were pulled back from the exquisite face by jewelled combs. He wore a gold collar, a slave bracelet on his right bicep and gold cuffs at his wrists and ankles. His only clothing was identical to the male dancer's except it, like the female dancer's, was diaphanous and the boy kept his hands covering his groin. The material was so low on the boy's hips that as the watcher looked closely he could see the boy's treasure trail and the hint of dark curls peeking at the top of the material. His caramel skin glowed with an oiled sheen. His eyes were outlined with dark kohl, his lips and nipples highlighted with rouge to make them appear plumper and more inviting. He looked to be almost the perfect harem sex slave.

Almost.

If you ignored the shivers that shook his slender frame.

If you ignored the shudders of revulsion at every touch or word from El-Sidar.

If you ignored the sheer, naked terror in the expressive brown eyes.

At a signal from El-Sidar the male dancer moved closer. His hand caressed beneath the silk to encourage the young man to full hardness. The dancer's head fell back to a moan of delight at his master's touch. At another order, the dancer released the chain that held the silk to his body. El-Sidar licked his lips at the erotic sight of the aroused, attractive male. He gave another command and one of the young men crawled forward as the dancer stepped back. The dancer moaned appreciatively as his erection was slowly licked. He played with the chains attached to his body as his flesh was teased and wetted. He threw a sultry look at his master and was rewarded by a lewd smile. Another command and the female dancer was pushed to her hands and knees and mounted from behind by another man without pre-amble. The man pounded into her, his hands gripping her hips tightly.

The male dancer pulled his saliva-slick shaft from the mouth of the young man kneeling before him. He moved behind and pushed him onto all fours, raising slim hips and pulling away the cloth that covered him. He stroked the dark, taut buttocks as he exposed them, creating an erotic visual feast for his master. Locking eyes with the older man, the dancer pulled the boy's cheeks apart and then plunged into the unprepared sheath. Immediately he began to ride his unwilling mount hard and fast. The boy cried out at the rough entry, but under the expertise of the dancer began to groan more pleasurably. The dancer knew how to angle his shaft to hit the hidden jewel and reached to fondle the growing hardness of his reluctant partner. The dancer gave a smile of triumph as he sent more smouldering looks at his master. The older man clearly showed his appreciation with a wide smile and a hand working at flesh hidden to the dancer's view. He was certain he would be rewarded well for his performance.

Alonso was terrified and shuddered helplessly each time El-Sidar's breath or hand touched his skin. He sat as rigid as possible trying to preserve his modesty as he was forced to watch El-Sidar's notion of entertainment. At the hated man's command, fear turned into shock at the way dancing gave way to sex. Alonso struggled to breathe as he watched the woman carelessly taken and the way the dancer forcibly entered the other man.