The Knight and the Healer

By Christian Parker (Dragonknight2222)

Published on Oct 16, 2001

Gay

Disclaimer: if you don't approve of homosexual activities between to men then you won't like this story, please leave. Also, if you are under 18 you shouldn't be reading this story please, leave. But since you won't leave, enjoy...

To the Reader: this is a romantic story between two adults. If your looking for a bunch of sex, try my other stories XXX-Men, in celebrities or Tutoring the Football Jock in High School. If this is the kind of story you want then enjoy...

The Knight and The Healer

Tears blurred his vision, but he didn't have the strength to wipe them. "How long had he been walking?" he wondered, but then dismissed the thought. He didn't care, he was too tired to care, too hungry. He walked on the path, but he had no destination. No one would take him in and he had no friends to turn to. All he wanted now was to die. Tears welled up in him again as he realized that no one would care when they found his dead body.

He was 19, in his prime, and yet he felt so alone. He desperately wanted someone to befriend him, but there was no one. He was utterly alone.

"Hello, pretty boy," the boys body went stiff. He turned around and met two dark brown eyes. He stepped back confused. Before him stood a 5'5" man dressed in a dark green tunic. It was cut in the local style and was stretched largely to cover his sizable gut. He wore leggings but his thick fatty legs showed through the holes in them, stretching them beyond belief. He wore a belt, but if it helped to shrink his gut, it didn't work well. A small gray sword hung at his hip. He wore a large gold earring in one ear, and he leered down at the young man with a grin that showed off his sharp uneven teeth.

"My, my, we have a cute little boy here, don't we," he remarked loudly, reaching out to caress the young man's cheek. Lightning fear flooded his veins as he realized that many more vagabonds were crawling out of the bushes, most were as greusome in appearance as their leader. "We'll take good care of such a sweet little toy," he smiled, and let out a jolly laugh at the man's obvious detestment for the mere thought of what these highwaymen were planning.

He didn't have anything to look for in his future, but he knew he didn't want his life to end as the male whore for such scum. He turned to run away, but the highwaymen had already formed a circle around him. They were swiftly drawing closer, their leader was the closest. He reached out and grabbed the young man's arm, "what's your name tutz?"

The man tried to run away, but the leader had him in a tight grip and he couldn't escape, "I'm Trelor, now let me go!" he yelled loudly.

The villains only looked at him and roared in laughter. The leader finally subsided his deep rumbling laugh, and then looked down at the boy with ice cold eyes, "We'll let you go, as soon as we're through with you."

He pulled Trelor towards him and gave him a rough kiss, he tried to force his tongue in Trelor's mouth and the others burst out laughing seeing the aghast look in Trelor's eyes. With all his might the young man bit down on the vagabonds tongue and kneed him in the gut. The group laughed at seeing their leader spit blood and grip his stomach in pain.

The grip released from Trelor's arm, he tried to run away, but then a feeling a forbodeing feeling of dread washed over him. He cried out as his tongue was nearly bitten completely off and he was kicked in the gut so hard he fell on his back, all done by an unseed force. He cried in pain as most of the other highwaymen shrieked back, fearing sorcery. The leader had now gotten up and was leering at the boy who curled up in a fetal position on the floor. "Look boys, we got ourselves a healer."

Realization hit the villains and they began smiling to themselves. "It's fun to break healers. They can't fight back or they wind up like this. Being dealt twice as much pain as they themselves dealt to others."

Tears welled up as Trelor clutched his stomach in pain and cursed the Healers Curse, a healer may never hurt, lest he be dealt twice the harm caused by his hands. It was a terrible thing that left healers defenseless. He longed for an escort as all healers were supposed to have, but that made him remember. "NO!" his mind cried, "don't remember, it'll just cause more pain."

So Trelor laid there waiting for the vagabonds to do their work. The leader bent down to examine their new toy. Suddenly all eyes flashed back upward, as a cry from one of the thieves erupted. His head was already off his shoulders by the time the vagabonds found his body.

There in gleaming silver armor stood a knight, his silver sword raised to the sky, with a great battle cry sounding his arrival. "Unhand that healer, you evildoers!" his voice was thick and male, strong with the power and confidence.

Many of thieves grabbed weapons, while some darted off back the way the came. The knight instantly began his dance with death. He spun his sword right gutting one of the men, while a tall lanky thief jumped on top of him , slicing down his left forearm. The knight swiped in a great arc, nipping the shoulder of one man, and cutting the lanky thief nearly in half. He wore no helmet, showing his handsome features. His square chin, thin lips, blonde hair tied in a short high warrior's ponytail, with blue eyes gleaming like a clear lake at noon.

He charged the man in front of him, impaling the man on his sword. He kept going in to the heart of the conflict, and when he stopped just over Trelor, the body went flying off the knight's sword and into the leader's face. The leader gave a vicious snarl as the body knocked him on his butt. He reached in a pouch and threw a small brown bag of powder on knight. The knight cried out and began swinging wildly, but was blinded by the strange powder.

The knight's eyes burned, but he felt his sword tip graze something, with all his might he hacked at the figure his sword had brushed. Humiliation over whelmed him as he heard the deep "thunk" of a sword hitting bark. He desperately tried to dislodge his sword from the tree, but the villains were upon him. Taking advantage of the incapacitated knight, the began fighting him. A dagger slipped neatly in the knights right link, lodging just between the two metal plates. Another blade found its' way into his arm, and a deep gash was cut across his face. The blades were meant to hit vital organs, but the valiant knight thrashed his body violently. Bucking blows to any thieves who wandered too close and punching those he heard at his side. Archers traded their bows for their slingshots and hailed stones at the knight, their stones lodged in his armor denting it and bending it to punch its way into the knight's flesh.

The knight's cry of rage and pain, awoke Trelor from his fetal position. He scratched at his eyes, as powder drifted into them, blinding him with the knight. "Well," he thought, "I am a healer." With that he closed his eyes and chanted a spell, "glorith ach mut nun, sirach siarach fin fan fum."

He concentrated his mind on the knight and himself, and smiled as the two glowed in a yellow mist. The vagabonds shied away from the strange aura, confused and afraid of it. The mist removed the knights blindness and he gave a final tug to pull his sword free of the insufferable tree. He barely glanced at the healer, who began to back away from the fight, pushing himself into a crouching position next to a tree.

Trelor clutched his arms around his knees, feeling the fatigue left by performing the spell. Luckily it was a small spell and so the fatigue was bearable. He watched in horror, as the knight single handedly fought the remaining 7 thieves, including the leaders sizable sword. Three archers were still hailing stones at him, and though he fought bravely with vigor, he was outnumbered and losing the battle, slowly but surely.

Trelor, couldn't fight, causing pain to any of these men would hurt him more than them. Plus he was weak as it was, he had been trained in magical not warrior ways, thus he was weak, "no," his mind cried again forbidding him to think of such matters. A cry of pain, erupted from the knight, snapping Trelor back to the scene before him. Anger and malice replaced the fear and humiliation in the knight's beautiful eyes, he knew he was defeated, yet he wasn't willing to give up.

"NO!!!" Trelor cried, he knew the spell to use. His mind fought his decision to use it, reminding him of its consequences. He didn't care, he raced over to the bloody form of the knight. He shoved his way towards the knight, grasping for some part of the knights body. He cried out as a knife sank into his arm, but for now ignored the pain. Suddenly, he gripped something cold and metallic, "Armor!" his mind cried. He followed it downwards to the warm gloved hand of the knight, there he pressed his fingers through the holy mesh of chain link. A tingle went through his arm at the skin to skin contact, Trelor had already made the mental spell preperations, he only needed to finish off the spell with a few words, "un ana veshlingla say ootna tenterdune, kariblea seearchplay voldu voldune see ma!"

Light burst from his body, and the bright white light flew into the knight. It swam through his veins examining every briuse, cut, and ache. After measuring all the pains, it flew back out and lashed out at the vagabonds. For a fraction of a second it blessed them with the Healer's Curse. The archers cried out as the stones they had hailed on the knight reversed, giving them the bruises they had given the knight, but with twice as much pain. They ran off trying to escape the barrage, but to no avail. The dagger cuts on the knight became deep imobilizing gashes on the thieves who had caused them. Even the shallow cut down the knights face, left a deep scar on the thief's.

Trelor knew many of them were running away, scared of the clandestine spell. Hopefully the temporary energy left in the wake of the spell, would give the knight enough strength to fight the lingering assailants. He didn't care at this point, he sank down to the ground, his whole body shaking from magical fatigue. He had cast a powerful spell, he wished there was a way to appease the violent shaking. He missed his staff, it would have comforted him, and steadied him after such a spell, but it was gone. His staff brought back the horrible memories. His mind tried to stop the remembering, but he was too weak to do more than sink into his tears and watch the horrid memories.

To the Reader: Okay, this was my first romance story. I know there isn't any sex, try part 2 when it comes out. Most of your questions will be answered in Part 2, like who is the knight, who is the healer, etc. If you have any comments, questions, or concerns, please email me at dragonknight2222@aol.com. Thanks for your support...

Next: Chapter 2


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