The Fifth Beast (ManxMan Chinese/Celtic Fantasy Story)

Chapter 18

Twice more Faolan Three Swords surprised Niall: first with his insatiable lust, and then with the fact that it had finally reached its limit. Sex with the Lord of Lightning had always exhausted humans before — and the very same human just a day ago. But, having lost his magic, helpless, bruised, Niall was unable to resist, unable to somehow seize the initiative. And it was the barbarian who rolled him every which way over the bearskin to the point of complete exhaustion, when Niall's eyelids were closing all by themselves and his arms fell along his body like broken tree branches. Perhaps Niall fell asleep a couple of times, he didn't remember. He only remembered that the barbarian did not stop pawing him, stroking his hair, squeezing his buttocks, thighs, kissing and biting his shoulders, even when his arousal finally subsided.

The improvised oil lamp went out during the night, but soon the damp, grey, cold morning crept into the tent through the flap. Niall absent-mindedly spread out his fingers for a lightning ball — and dropped his palm on Faolan's chest. He was sitting astride of him, the barbarian himself lifted him up and made him sit on his lap, but wasn't f&cking him anymore, just lazily rubbed his half-hard member between his thighs.

In the predawn twilight, his face features, the lines of his hard body were barely visible, like a charcoal sketch. His hair flowed in waves of darkness. Niall stroked his bulging pectoral muscles pensively. How could that fragile mortal body contain so much cruel, furious power?

He was so exhausted that his mind stopped throbbing with sickening, shrilling pain of loss, humiliation and shame. He should've been ashamed of how much he underestimated humans. Maybe the Kirinches were a special breed, different from the Tuaths? Maybe the fact that they didn't live under the rule of the Elemental Lords, made them stronger. Yes, the Tuaths couldn't summon kirins. But before, none of the Kirinches could summon their beasts within the Shield. No matter how you look at it, the junior chief of the Kirinches was a very unusual human.

And a very beautiful one, damn him to Anghaine! After all he'd done, Niall still couldn't hate him.

"Aren't you afraid I'll try to kill you?" He moved his fingers from the barbarian's chest to his throat. Squeezed it slightly, just as an illustration.

And that crooked grin and the mocking look from under long black lashes still seemed so beautiful to Niall that his heart skipped a beat.

How easy it would be to raise the other hand and close his fingers round Faolan's throat, dug his thumbs deep into the hollow between his collarbones...

Next moment, Niall gasped and unclenched his fingers, because Faolan's iron grip landed on his wounded upper arm. The barbarian sat up, effortlessly lifting Niall with him, and Niall swayed and threw his arms around his neck to keep his balance. He was too weak, and his entire body was in pain — the cuts and bruises from Faolan's swords, the marks of his greedy fingers, the bites on his shoulders, the abrasions between his legs from his violent lust. Faolan Three Swords, indeed. A fragile mortal? Hardly. Niall was taller, but his shoulders and waist were narrower. He himself seemed fragile in the barbarian's mighty arms. How his muscles moved under his skin when he fought — or f&cked...

Niall didn't like quiet partners. Silence in bed reduced sex to animal mating. Yes, of course, the rapist could hardly be considered a 'sex partner.' But everything that happened between them during the night, after the very first time, could hardly be called 'rape.' No more than what happened between them at Da Derga Mansion.

"Why didn't you just kill me?" he asked. What a nice topic for a conversation in bed.

The barbarian raised an eyebrow, smiled slowly, lazily, and pulled him in for a kiss. Niall's swollen, bitten lips responded with unexpectedly sharp pain, and he groaned into the barbarian's mouth, into his beautiful full lips and mocking grin. He didn't expect Faolan to answer, the kiss was an answer in itself. But this time the barbarian was more was generous with words.

"So that you whole kingdom goes to war with me?"

Niall bit his lip. It was logical, sensible. And not at all what he wanted to hear.

"I am the Steward of the North, have you forgotten? I can gather half of the North under my banners — and still go to war with you."

"I'll be waiting," the damned barbarian whispered into his ear. "Come alone or with an army, I'll be waiting. I'll order to make a belt with your braid. Let everyone see that I defeated a Sidhe in a fight."

"I will take that belt off your lifeless body," Niall whispered to him just as softly.

Faolan laughed and pulled him close. The savage seemed happy with the prospect that the Lord of the Tuatha Dé Danann was going to take revenge on him.

Outside, one of the warriors hailed his chief. The chief responded with obvious reluctance, made some kind of joke that caused laughter and hooting. He wriggled out from under Niall and began to dress.

"By the way, how did you manage to summon your kirin inside the Shield?" Niall remembered to ask.

The barbarian looked at him askew and didn't answer.

"Was it your wolf that killed people in the forest of Cruitne Corann?"

Faolan, who was belting up his pants, froze and frowned.

"A tamed beast does not attack people. You saw it yesterday with your own eyes."

"How would I know, maybe you ordered it not to harm me."

"If we could set our beasts on the Sidhe, would we stay in our cold barren steppes, Steward of the North? I would take over your castle and chain you to my bed."

"Dream on. If all Kirinches were able to summon such feral beasts, and not just horses with horns, I would've heard about it. For example, I've heard your other nickname is Three Beasts. Not an exaggeration, like the other one?"

Faolan winked and didn't answer. He began looking for his boots, but the topic clearly interested him as much as Niall. After a short while, he asked, "Is that why you have come to Airenn? Someone is killing people in Mag Tuired, inside the Shield, and you thought it was a kirin?"

"It seems to me that I wasn't that far off. You just showed that a kirin can be summoned inside the Shield."

"Only a tamed beast could be summoned. So, you came to Cumal Mac Ruadh for advice about kirins? Some expert!"

Niall opened his mouth to say, "Well, I couldn't turn to the Kirinches for advice, could I?" And closed it, realizing that he actually could. And, in fact, should have. In the proper way: organize a diplomatic mission, bring gifts, and hire an interpreter...

"Should I have consulted you? It's like asking a bear if it killed the sheep! I didn't even know when I left that there were barbarians in Airenn. Not to mention the junior chief of all the Kirinches in person. Ah, yes, if any Kirinch could summon his kirin inside the Shield, there would be no need to buy horses..."

"Your tongue is your worst enemy, Niall Mac Nechtan!" the barbarian said with obvious annoyance. "Don't you see that you are pretty much asking for a knife in the heart?"

Now Niall laughed. "Do you think it's a secret that the barbarians have coveted the blessed realm of Mag Tuired since the day it was founded? Whatever you are riding: horses, or kirins, or demons from Anghaine, you are still a handful of savages, nothing more!"

Faolan dropped the boot he was about to put on and grabbed Niall by the shoulder. His nostrils flared with rage, and he yelled in Niall's face, "Shidda yarat! I should have dragged you on a rope behind my horse to Khanbaliq! And kept you prisoner, driving common sense and humility up your ass! It's you, a handful of haughty Sidhe who fancy themselves great sorcerers, it's you who is nothing compared to the mighty Orda! Look at yourself, who are you without your magic?" He tossed Niall flat on his back, his other hand fumbling for the fastenings of his pants.

He was hailed again from outside of the tent, and he growled, swore something colorful in his own language, and released his captive. He got up, seething with rage, and began to look for his boots again. By the time Faolan found them and put them on, he had already reined himself in and looked at Niall with his usual sarcastic calmness.

"I'll be waiting for you in Khanbaliq. Come get your braid. And we will discuss beasts, demons and who is a savage and who is not."