Ari awoke in a large, spacious tent finding himself completely bound by a heavy set of chains connected to a spike driven in the ground. Grimacing in pain, he moved a little to look around the empty tent. The sun streaming through the small opening in the tent showed that it was still daylight as he tried to get his bearings.

His head felt fuzzy as he tried to straighten out the events in his mind. He clearly remembered the battle and the raven haired man that had disarmed him by, ironically, his beauty. Ari groaned at his stupidity at hesitating at seeing the stunning man’s face. It had landed him naked in this tent, spiked to the ground like an animal.

He hadn’t realized at first that his opponent was the legendary Nighteagle until he had awakened to find the man ogling him. If he hadn’t been so furious with himself and his captor he would have been struck speechless by the man that had been standing before him.

His copper skin had almost seemed to glow as it stretched over a finely sculpted, lean body that was not over-muscled but still bespoke strength. His long, inky black hair hung down to his ass, flowing around the man, curtaining his body, proclaiming his prowess as a warrior unparalleled in skill. High cheekbones combined with full lips and deep black eyes that spoke of animalistic lust as they had bore into him had made Ari almost forget who the man was.

It had been only his fierce anger at himself that had allowed him to snap the pathetic bonds that held him as he had launched himself at his captor. After that Ari’s mind seemed to blur a little. It was only when he shifted his weight and he felt a spasm in his lower back did the memories begin to surface as he moaned, drawing up his knees and burying his head in arms.

He could feel his head pounding but it was nothing compared to knowledge of what had happened with the alluring Nighteagle. When he had felt the first blow on his ass he had become completely hard, despite the fact the man spanking him was the enemy and a man he should hate above all else for destroying his clan. Yet his body responded to what Nighteagle had been doing it. His body had wanted to be taken by the man, but his mind screamed its protest.

He couldn’t believe what they had done on the floor of this tent. The humiliation of not finding death in battle coupled with his enjoyment of his rape left him feeling hopeless and more defeated than he ever thought possible. He looked around the tent, searching for anything that could help him escape. Getting up he saw only a richly decorated rug, pillows, and a three chests in the room. Pulling with all his might, he dragged the spike out of the ground and went to the chests, his chains jangling. Inside among clothing, jewelry, and surprisingly a couple of books, he found his braided hair and an intricately crafted dagger. Holding the remains of his long hair he felt despair overwhelm him.

Without pausing he swiftly knelt and took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he prepared to plunge the knife into him, unwilling to live as a sex slave for any man and dishonor himself further. Suddenly, he felt a large hand wrap around his hand, crushing it as the dagger fell from him. His eyes snapped open to see Nighteagle staring at him, his eyes holding unparalleled anger as he the man slapped him hard, sending him backwards.

"Don’t you dare even think about it," Nighteagle growled. "How in the hell did you pull out that stake?"

"Let me die," Ari growled, pushing himself up.

"No, you’re mine now," Nighteagle growled.

Ari stood up with dignity and grace despite his naked state, bloody lip and chains, to looked at the man uncompromisingly.

"I’m a warrior of the Iolair. There is no surrender, only death to the defeated. You insult me, my clan, and yourself by doing this," Ari said in a calm, deadly voice.

Nighteagle stared at him, his eyes unreadable in the silence. The moments stretched past as the two glared at each other. He knew that he a hit a nerve with the man as he watched Nighteagle’s face closely. He knew that the Horse Lords rarely took captives, often killing everyone in their path and desecrating the enemies’ bodies if the foe was unworthy of respect. They had an honor code similar to the Iolair’s that was strictly followed; Nighteagle had stepped over that code by taking him captive. He wasn’t some shepherd, but a warrior and worthy enemy, to take him as a bed slave brought dishonor to both of them.

"The funeral pyres have been lit," Nighteagle said abruptly.

"Good, even if my people died at least they took many with them on their voyage," Ari said with satisfaction.

"Your peoples’ pyres," Nighteagle elaborated as Ari lost his anger at the man to shock.

He had never heard of the Horse Lords honoring their enemies with their own dead. They often decapitated their victims, denying them the afterlife. For Nighteagle to order his people burned with their honor intact shocked Ari to his core. It was something he was not sure even he would have done.

"May I go?" Ari asked quietly.

"That is why I came, follow me," Nighteagle said with a nod.

"Like this!" Ari asked, looking down at his naked body and heavily chained arms.

Nighteagle looked at him for a moment, as if weighing something in his mind before going over to the chest and throwing him a set of pants. Ari pulled them on, noting that they fit perfectly except for being a little long. Eyeing the man he realized that they were very similar as he watched Nighteagle exit the tent.

Following through the maze of brightly colored dome-shaped tents, Nighteagle led him to the outskirts of his camp, where the smell of burnt flesh overwhelmed Ari and his stomach rolled in protest. Funeral pyres covered the valley as he watched them burn. He noticed that hundreds of warriors worked to clean up the battlefield as Iolair and the horse clan were laid together on huge wood pyres and set afire, mingling the ashes of the fallen together on the wind.

He felt tears come to his eyes at the unexpected sight, and the realization that almost all his clan was gone except a few who remained hidden. He felt crushing despair that he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to endure hit him, and he sank to the ground.

Nighteagle stood beside him, saying nothing as silent tears rolled down Ari’s face as he mourned the death of his people. The sun sank low in the sky as Ari lost track of the time in his grief. He felt a surprisingly gentle hand grab his arm, lifting him from the ground. Ari look up to see the greatest of the Horse Lords look at him with sympathy that held no pity or gloating.

"They died with honor, taking a third of their enemy with them," Nighteagle said gently before turning and pulling the Ari along.

Ari stumbled a little as his mind whirled in surprise. This man was completely unexpected, every word and action confused him. It was if the man was trying to comfort him in his grief, yet he was the enemy. Nighteagle had not destroyed his clan like he had expected, but given them an honorable death of a worthy enemy, and yet he denied Ari that same death.

He was young, almost too young to have accomplished all that he had in so brief of a time. He was gorgeous beyond belief. Ari closed his eyes, shuddering a little as the thoughts of what they had done together filled his mind. The taste of blood from the man’s lips and the hot skin pressed against his own danced in his thoughts.

He quickly opened his eyes, trying to banish the thoughts of the sex that had been almost a battle between the two men, to see he was being led to raised platform filled with brightly colored cushions. Nighteagle sat down and pushed Ari down on the lower step beneath him, pulling Ari close to his leg. Ari tried to pull away until Nighteagle leaned over him.

"Resist, and I will strip you naked and collar you like a disobedient dog," Nighteagle hissed.

Ari glared up at the man, wondering if Nighteagle would actually be able to follow through with his words. Looking up at the man’s hard face he knew it wasn’t worth the risk. At least he had some small bit of pride and clothes left to him. To be stripped of even that in front of the hundreds of men celebrating before the bonfire would be too much to bear.

Ari looked around at the horse clan, ignoring the warmth of Nighteagle’s leg pressed against his side. They were a fierce people with angular faces and coppery skin. All of them dressed in leather in varying degrees of browns and blacks, and all had swords and daggers strapped to their hips and backs. He noticed most of the men had long hair braided with beads and feathers, denoting their skills in battle, but none wore their hair loose and flowing like Nighteagle. It surprised him that he saw no women among the warriors. The women of his people wouldn’t have stood for being left out of such a celebration and battle.

"Where are the women?" Ari asked finally.

"Women? Where else, in their tents and tending the injured as is proper," Nighteagle replied.

"You mean after they finish tending the injured they will join your celebration?" Ari asked confused.

"Of course not. No respectable woman would want to be here," Nighteagle said, irate as he looked down at Ari.

Some of his confusion must have shown on his face for Nighteagle’s face softened a little.

"Ah, I understand now. Your women fight along side your men?"

"Of course! The women would kill me if I stood in their way," Ari said.

"In this we are different. Our woman live to serve their husbands and fathers. They do not fight, they bear our children," Nighteagle explained.

Ari frowned at this, surprised that the horse clan women would agree to such a situation. It seemed unnatural, to oppress a segment of ones clan in such a way.

"Are there not some among you that do not fight?" Nighteagle asked curiously.

"No, our women are equals among us, and are respected for their gift of creating life," Ari answered.

"Strange, your women are feared by us. They are strange and deadly," Nighteagle commented.

"Yes," Ari agreed with a smile, thinking of Gislia. She had almost broken his ribs when he had told her she must not fight in the battle.

"We found a group of your women in the forest," Nighteagle said causally.

"What?!" Ari exclaimed jumping to his feet.

He felt Nighteagle’s eyes pin him as he fear rushed through his body. Gislia and his son Var, were they dead? He knew that Gislia and the other women would fight if found. They would revel in the battle.

"Our men didn’t approach them, afraid of such fierce women, yet they have been marked," Nighteagle continued in a calm voice.

Ari trembled, wondering what this man wanted, for he wanted something from Ari. He could see it in the man’s face, the lust and something more.

"What do you want?" Ari asked, defeated, fearing the answer.

"Your word as a warrior you will cease trying to kill yourself or run away. Your clan will forswear revenge until they have recovered their numbers," Nighteagle said softly.

"You want me to be your obedient bed slave," Ari said emptily, his worst fear realized in the man’s words.

"No, if you want your freedom you must defeat me as a warrior, not as a coward running," Nighteagle said, his voice filled with pride.

"I kill you then your warriors will kill me."

Suddenly Nighteagle stood up on the platform and bellowed in a deep voice for silence. Within moments the crowd was silent as Nighteagle’s gaze swept his people.

"We have won a glorious victory over the ancient legendary race of the Iolair," Nighteagle started as the men cheered. "I have defeated the White Demon and taken him captive to prove our strength as warriors. He is ours until the day he defeats me, on that day he is free, until then our strength is without question," Nighteagle shouted, to be greeted by the strong, enthusiastic cheers of his men.

"Bring out the other captives," Nighteagle commanded.

Ari watched in a daze as three men and two women were pulled before the platform, still naked and covered in blood and blue paint. Nighteagle looked down at him at him questioningly.

"I swear on my warrior pride that I will not kill myself or run until I have gutted your sorry ass," Ari growled.

Nighteagle nodded.

"Then should I free them?" Nighteagle whispered arching his eyebrow.

"You know you cannot. They would never leave without a fight, their honor would not let them," Ari hissed.

"The White Demon has bought your honor. Get them swords," Nighteagle commanded, descending the platform, unsheathing his sword.

Ari looked at the faces of the captives, realizing with a start that one of them was Strum. The man was looking at him with and unreadable expression on his grim face. Strum of all people knew him the best, and knew what was going through him as Nighteagle approached them.

Singling out one of the women with shoulder length hair, Ari winced in recognition at the girl who was never the best at sword work. He watched as she took the offered sword and without missing a beat charged at Nighteagle. With only three blows Nighteagle easily slipped his sword between her ribs. Ari watched her battle with pride, knowing she had died trying to defeat the enemy despite the odds against her, she had attacked without hesitation.

Each battle followed the same pattern as his people were completely overpowered by the greatest of all the Horse Lords. Finally only Strum remained, gazing not at the battles that had taken place but only at Ari. He had felt the man’s eyes on him but he had watched his people fight and die before him, honoring their courage with his attention, as he burned them into his mind never to forget.

Strum took the offered weapon and instead of charging watched Nighteagle, measuring his opponent. Nighteagle raised his sword and struck with deadly force, which Strum countered easily. Ari watched the dance between the two, his pride at his former lover swelling within him as Strum fought with skill and speed. He could see the ghost of the man he had used to love with such passion in the powerful dance between the two.

Steel grated on steel as their swords met, pushing against each other, seeking an advantage, then Ari saw Strum’s mouth move, speaking to Nighteagle. The words were lost within the cheering of the crowd as rage ignited in Strum’s eyes as he pushed Nighteagle back. Ari knew in that moment Strum had lost, even as his blade battered at Nighteagle’s defense. He had lost to himself and whatever Nighteagle had said to him. The rage gave him strength but took away his reason, and he slashed wildly. It was over in a second as Nighteagle slipped his sword in Strum’s unguarded right side, the sword biting deep into the man’s side, cleaving him into the middle.

Ari watched as Strum crumpled on Nighteagle’s sword, his wide eyes looking into Ari’s as the life went out of them. The crowd roared its approval as Nighteagle cleaned his sword and returned to the platform. Ari sank to the floor, dazed at the death of Strum and the events of the day.

"He was your lover?" Nighteagle asked quietly after the people’s attention had turned back to the celebration.

"My former lover and teacher," Ari said emptily.

"He asked the price you paid," Nighteagle said, drinking deeply from his ale horn.

"What did you tell him?"

"You paid with your honor and body," Nighteagle replied steady.

"That is a lie," Ari protested angrily.

"You will pay repeatedly with your body until you defeat me or I release you. It is no lie and there is no escape. You knew that when you agreed," Nighteagle answered, undisturbed by Ari’s accusation.

"I will never willingly give you my body,"Ari retorted.

"It doesn’t matter if you are willing, I will have you," Nighteagle said without mercy.

"Not without a fight," Ari said grimily.

"I look forward to it," Nighteagle grinned.

The celebration continued unabated as Nighteagle drank and even sang occasionally for his men. His deep baritone voice strangely soothing as his men listened in rapt attention to their leader’s voice. Ari remained quiet, observing the interaction between Nighteagle and his clan, and saw that above all else his people respected and adored him. He had no doubt if Nighteagle ordered it that his men they would enter the forest they hated and attack the last of his clan.

"It is late. There are three hours left till dawn, and when the sun breaks over the horizon you must be back here or you forfeit your honor, life, and the lives of your clan. Go to your people and tell them of our bargain, for I do no want to slaughter the last of your people until they are truly capable of defeating me," Nighteagle said as he unlocked the chains on Ari’s wrists.

Ari nodded and stood up. He looked down at the man who was so confidant in himself to keep the White Demon of Iolair captive, and who would allow his enemy to survive only so they could grow stronger. He couldn’t help but feel respect for the man despite who he was.

Nighteagle led him to the edge of the camp and Ari turned without a word and ran. He knew that it would take most of his time to get to where his people were and return before the sun rose in the sky. He felt the pain of Nighteagle’s entry of him keenly as he ran. His body ached and his head pounded from being knocked unconscious twice in one day. It had been a terrible day, and he feared there was worse to come.

He had told Nighteagle he wouldn’t have his body without a fight, yet he wasn’t confidant that he could hold to those words. If Nighteagle hadn’t been the enemy he would have been a dream come true for Ari. He had a strength that could match and even surpass Ari. Although Ari doubted that Nighteagle could always beat him in every match, for he suspected that in sword skills they were evenly matched, he still was by far the most powerful opponent Ari had ever crossed swords with. In the short time Ari had been allowed to observe the man he had noticed a quick wit and intelligence that pulled at him. But more than anything he had felt it when Nighteagle had taken him. The overwhelming need to dominate Ari and acquire him at any cost.

Nighteagle’s lust was like a bonfire compared to Strums gentle candlelight. Nighteagle’s fierce, almost brutal touch had made Ari tremble in wanton desire. He had wanted to be taken and hurt by the powerful, handsome man, and he wasn’t sure if he would be able to control his perverse desires. He was very much afraid of what this man would come to mean to him. No matter what happened, were he to killed the man and be set free or remain a captive, one thing was sure, his time as clan leader of the Iolair was over. He had surrendered his honor for the chance that his son would grow old and become a fierce warrior of the clan.

He had willingly submitted to slavery, if only temporarily, for a chance for his people. Even if he won his freedom he would never be able to return to the Iolair again. He had cried for his people but even as he ran he couldn’t cry for himself.

When he finally arrived in the outskirts of the Iolair camp he was hailed by the sentries and found a sword pointed at his throat until they recognized him. Suddenly he found himself wrapped up in one of the sentry’s arms as she called to the others.

Gislia appeared in her soft cotton shift, little Var in her arms as she looked at Ari measuringly, noting his shorn hair.

"We couldn’t have won," Gislia said flatly as others crowded around.

"No, the Iolair are all dead. I watched the Horse Lords’ leader, Nighteagle, battle the last five captives to the death," Ari answered with pride.

"He allowed them honorably deaths?" Gislia asked in shock.

"He also burned our dead with their own," Ari nodded.

"Thank the gods," another woman said softly, tears in the eyes of those who surrounded him.

Gislia held out Var to him as he gently took his sleeping son in his arms, looking down at the baby’s face with a soft smile, forgetting for the movement everything but the precious bundle in his arms.

"Why are you here?" Gislia asked softly.

"The Iolair must rebuild themselves, Gislia. You must rebuild our clan and make them strong again. Do not seek vengeance until the day we are of equal numbers to the Horse Lords," Ari said quietly.

"That will take generations!" Gislia protested, along with many of the others.

"Nighteagle knows you are here," Ari said flatly, looking up at the pale woman.

"Then we will fight," Gislia said angrily.

"Look at him Gislia. Look at your son, can he fight? Can most of the children here? I WILL NOT SEE THEM DIE," Ari shouted as Var’s icy eyes snapped open to look up at his father.

"You must live and continue our clan. Do not let our culture die in vain. Rebuild us, make us strong, so one day you can avenge us and win," Ari said quietly, rocking his son, who struggled in the cocoon of his blanket. "Do it for our children."

"What about you? You are our leader, our soul." Gislia said softly.

"A price had to be paid," Ari said softly, offering his finger to his son, who promptly stuck it in his mouth.

"What price?" Gislia demanded.

"I belong to Nighteagle until I can defeat him," Ari replied sadly.

"No, no you can’t," Gislia’s voice high pitched in denial as others called out in shock and outrage.

"The price has been paid. Don’t make my sacrifice worthless, wife. Keep him safe, make him strong, through him I shall live with all of you," Ari said, and gently disengaged his finger from his son’s firm grip.

"Promise me," Ari commanded, looking deep within Gislia’s eyes, demanding compliance.

"I swear as a warrior, we will rebuild our clan and raise your son," Gislia said in a shaky voice as Ari nodded, looking at the others who remained quiet.

"This is my final command as your leader. Live and bring honor to our clan. Rebuild it so one day the Horse Lords will rue the day they ever tried to destroy us," Ari said in a light, firm voice.

His people cheered as he passed Var back to his mother, looking down at the little face all scrunched up as he cried loudly. Ari leaned down and kissed the boy’s forehead before turning and running, the sound of his son’s wailing cries following him through the desolate forest.

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