The Fifth Beast (ManxMan Chinese/Celtic Fantasy Story)

Chapter 23

It turned out, by pure instinct Niall chose the most effective way of negotiating with Elatha Mac Lir. The latter was quite pleased with his ardor, although reproached him half-jokingly, "What a pity that you never wanted me with such passion!"

Niall immediately objected that this was not true at all. Did Elatha forget how he had teased Niall after his arriving at Ynis Celt Castle, driving him mad with desire and not yielding to him, until one night Niall simply lost control and took him almost by force? Elatha laughed contentedly and filled Niall's cup with wine with his own hand.

Now, of course, he completely understood Niall's desire to find the young barbarian and carry out the appropriate revenge.

Although, when Niall described his plan, Elatha's eyebrows went up, and he even put down his cup. Asked gently, "My dear Steward of the North, are you out of your mind? Alone, without weapons, without your magical power, you are going to travel through the lands of the Kirinches? And looking like a mortal, no less? On the very first day of your journey you will be raped about a dozen times and sold into slavery."

Niall felt his cheeks getting hot.

"I was going to impersonate a slave anyway," he mumbled, beginning to lose confidence that his plan was even feasible.

"If you're going to commit suicide, let's just open the gates to Anghaine," Elatha said without a hint of a smile.

"Is it even theoretically possible?"

"If they can be closed, they can be opened too, don't you think? Don't change the subject."

"Elatha, what danger could there possibly be? No one would kill me. To rape a slave, one have to buy him first, and the price will be exorbitant, so that only the barbarian chief can afford it. You see, he is by no means poor. In any case, he will get a special discount. The barbarians, of course, are not very respectful of merchants and their goods, but a dozen or two armed guards will keep them away."

"Oh, am I also to provide guards?" Elatha raised his eyebrows again. "Don't you think it would be better to ask the Keeper of the South for help? After all, he is the one who regularly deals with slave merchants and every other kind of trade."

Niall snorted and looked Elatha in the eyes, saying with his look, Stop mincing! Elatha was simply putting up his price. Yes, the Keeper of the South Ailill Mac Rossa kept a harem of concubines and thralls of both sexes, in addition to his two wives, an official male lover and numerous brief affairs with other lords and ladies of the Tuatha Dé Danann. Without any doubt, he was well versed in the slave trade, because the largest slave market in the South was not far from Aed Slane, his castle, and he often invited over merchants selling living goods. But Niall would have to tell Ailill at least part of the truth, and he, of course, had no desire to expand the circle of those who knew it. He did not trust Ailill even a little bit, not with the latter's intemperate love for food, drinks, chatter and sex.

"You could avoid telling him the truth, go to his castle in that guise of a mortal..."

Niall laughed openly.

"Yeah, and in about a year or so, when he is tired of f&cking me in every orifice, he will deign to fulfill my request. Do you know that he never managed to bed me, no matter how hard he tried, during the year that I spent in Aed Slane, and then a couple of times at court? You will give him a luxurious gift by slipping me in the guise of a mortal."

"It always seemed strange to me that even the Keeper of the North managed to get a taste of you, while the Keeper of the South was not so lucky. After all, he is also the Lord of Fire, like your precious Cumal, if you are so drawn to hot redheads. You have no idea how experienced and skillful he is. By the way, you could top him, if you wanted to. He doesn't particularly like to bottom, but he was said to have an affair with your father, and I cannot imagine the great Nechtan Mac Ethliu in any other position than on top."

Niall scratched the bridge of his nose and for the first time wondered: really, why did he f&ck almost all the inhabitants of Aed Slane Castle, except for its owner?

"That's probably the reason: he is too experienced and skillful. One couldn't help but think what number they were in his personal list, one thousand? Five thousand? It's basically a sport for Ailill, he doesn't care who he goes to bed with, as long as it's someone new. Although he liked to tell me when I reminded him of my father and when I didn't, and you know, I didn't want to hear something like that in bed. By the way, you could say that you bought me from Ailill, this would not surprise anyone, and you decided to sell me, because the real I suddenly came to visit."

Elatha laughed and nodded his approval. It was very convincing. Niall remembered very well how Ailill had shown him a beautiful young thrall who looked a lot like Elatha Mac Lir, and the two of them had f&cked him all night long. Surely, Elatha knew a couple of similar stories about Ailill Mac Rossa. Maybe even involving bed slaves that looked like Niall Mac Nechtan.

Niall spent a whole week in Ynis Celt Castle. Elatha kept postponing the transformation, saying that his power would reach its peak on the full moon, at the time of the highest tide. It was just an excuse; in fact he just liked that Niall was spending the night in his bed again. Niall didn't mind too much, especially when Elatha took on the shape of a swarthy barbarian again, getting better and better each time. One should pay for the service rendered, and the payment was not too burdensome. But the more often he clasped this slender, dusky body in his arms, the more he dreamed of the original, not a copy.

Finally, Elatha deigned to apply his art of illusion to Niall. And he did it so wonderfully that Niall simply couldn't believe his eyes while looking in the mirror. There was a mortal man looking back at him: a tall, well-built man, with long legs, a thin waist, a high neck, a handsome face, and a long braid reaching his waist. The man looked very much like the Tuatha Dé Lord Niall Mac Nechtan, but still very much unlike him. His features seemed a little rougher, the mouth bigger, the skin not so white, the shoulders broader, the hair not the color of a blinding thunderbolt in the night, but just flaxen, sun-bleached to almost white. The eyes, too, were the normal human grey, not the shining silver of the Lord of Lightning.

He was naked — Elatha insisted that it was necessary for making the illusion. Niall doubted very much that the clothes could be a hindrance in any way, but he didn't argue. It was useful to see all the details: for example, the birthmarks scattered here and there by Elatha's magic, the hair on his chest (which Niall never had), and even his cock seemed a little smaller, not the imposing male organ of the Tuatha Dé lord.

Elatha forced him to his knees and put a specially made slave collar of flexible steel around his neck. His eyes glistened, and his hands slid to Niall's chest. At this rate, Niall won't get out of Ynis Celt Castle for another two weeks! He sighed and removed his host's hands.

"Elatha, I love you very much, but I'm not ready to be a slave at your feet, sorry, even for show. The temptation is great, I understand. But please, think with your head, would we still respect each other after that?"

Elatha's face was impenetrable, but his eyes betrayed his thoughts very clearly: Respect, what respect, I don't give a damn about it, and why didn't I put a couple more conditions on you, for example, to open your mouth and please me, like a slave would do his owner.

"That is why I came to you and not to Ailill," Niall said meaningfully.

Elatha sighed, forced his gaze to tear away from the kneeling Niall in the mirror, and tossed him a pile of clothes fit for a valuable human slave.