T. A. Chase

Poetry Train #68

I didn’t have time to write a new poem for you, so I thought I’d give you a glimpse of a fantasy novel I started a while back. It got put on the back burner as other stories grabbed my attention. The heroes have been calmly waiting their turn again. Who knows? Maybe I’ll get back to them soon. 🙂

It’s just the first part of Chapter One. I hope you enjoy it.

On Love’s Wings
By: T.A. Chase

Chapter One


“You’ll come with me.”

The pronouncement caused silence to fall over the room. Everyone turned to look at Miataga. The voice came from behind him and he turned with caution. What he saw standing there made him shiver and not all of it was from fear.

The body the voice belonged to was lean and muscular. Board shoulders tapered down to a slender waist. Washboard abs revealed by the skin tight uniform the other man wore. The man’s face was hidden by a mask allowing only his eyes to show. Those eyes were yellow and fierce like a hawk Miataga had seen when he was ten. He allowed his gaze to slide leisurely down the man’s body to when a small shield hung blocking his view of the man’s groin.

Resia, sitting at the table with him, jostled him and he realized everyone was waiting to see what he would do. Raising his eyes back to meet the man’s intense scrutiny, his own widened when he noticed the helmet the stranger was wearing. A pair of stylized wings wrapped their way around the man’s head. The tips met in the middle of his forehead where a gold beak connected with them.

Holy Mothers of the God, a Wing commander had claimed him. Now the shiver chasing down his spine was fear. For a second, his mouth formed the words to tell the man he wouldn’t go. Miataga caught a flicker of disappointment skitter through the unblinking gaze. It was the sign of humanness and the way the stranger stood, shoulders thrown back as if he expected Miataga to refuse him that made up Miataga’s mind.

Miataga didn’t usually make snap decisions, but he decided to go with the Commander. He held out his hand to allow the man to help him to his feet. “I’ll go with you, Commander.”

The tension in the room released like everyone had been holding their breath. Quiet conversation rose as they walked from the room. He fell in behind the stranger as they left the Loving House. He stopped outside and looked up at the building for a second. He had the strangest feeling he wouldn’t be coming back to the only home he had known.

“Are you still coming?” The question was soft and undemanding.

Miataga turned back to see the commander was standing a few feet from him. There was nothing in the man’s voice or body posture that told him the commander was going to force him to come.

“Yes. I was saying good-bye.” He moved down to join the other man.

“Why?” The commander glided towards the Wing’s barracks.

Following, Miataga tried not to gawk. He had never ventured out of the lower city of Spendler where the whores and slaves lived. His customers came to him and they would use one of the rooms at the Loving House. Without an escort, he wasn’t allowed to travel into the upper part of town where the soldiers and the politic leaders of Emmen lived. He shot a glance over at the commander striding next to him. What ranking did the stranger hold?

The skin-tight gold uniform told him nothing. There were no rank markings on the helmet where the commanders usually wore their stars with honor. They halted at a gate blocking the entrance to the barracks. Miataga became entranced by the gleaming and rippling gold of the commander’s uniform. It called to his hands to stroke. Before he thought of the consequences of touching a soldier without his permission, his hand trailed down the shoulder of the man standing in front of him. The warmth and smoothness of it shocked him. He hadn’t realized the weavers had created material that felt so much like human skin. A muffled sound came from the man when he rubbed his hand over the shoulder again.

“I’m sorry, Commander.” He dropped his hand and lowered his head.

“My name is Ari.” The commander’s voice was rough with desire and surprise laced through it.

“Commander Dosterta, I thought you had left for the evening.” A young soldier saluted to the golden man as they walked through the gate.

“I’m back to get Vikex, then we’ll be on leave for several weeks.” Returning the salute, Ari ignored the look of disgust the young soldier sent towards Miataga.

Miataga was used to those looks. Soldiers and political leaders had only one use for the whores down in the Loving Houses. Other than for sex, they didn’t socialize with each other and he liked it that way. The thin veneer of civilization hanging over the commanders couldn’t hide the wildness racing through their blood. It was part of the bonding between the commanders and their weapons.

The Emmenian armies’ specialized weapons were huge birds of prey that lived in the Westerly Mountains. The lowest ranking commanders bonded with falcons and hawks. The higher ranks were for the eagles. The Supreme Commander of the Emmenian army always bonded with the largest of the birds, the golden eagle.

Miataga’s eyes went wide at the thought. He threw a quick glance at the golden man beside him. He cast the thought away. The Supreme Commander would never get a whore from the lower city to service him.

“Forgive the boy. He hasn’t had good manners beaten into him yet.” Commander Dosterta’s voice was loud enough for the soldier to hear.

Miataga caught a glimpse of the soldier’s red face before he dropped his gaze again. “It’s all right.”

“It’s never right to treat anyone-be he whore, slave or the Supreme Commander-as if he were dirt beneath your feet.” Dosterta’s voice was cold.

Miataga shivered and he started to apologize again. A gentle hand on his arm stopped him.

“No more.” The slender fingers traced over his cool skin. “I gave you no time to grab your coat when we left your House. That was unforgivably cruel of me.”

Miataga shrugged. “I have no coat, Commander, so you would have delayed for no reason.”

The yellow eyes of the commander betrayed his shock. “No coat?”

“Whores are expected to stay at their House. We aren’t allowed to travel the city without an escort.” He was surprised the Commander didn’t know that.

“Paster,” the commander bellowed out.

A young man dressed in the browns and greens of an army courier materialized beside the commander. “Yes, sir?”

“I need a winter coat.” Dosterta glanced down at Miataga’s elegant slippers. “Also, a pair of boots. Bring them to Flight Field Eight.”

“Yes, sir.” Paster saluted and dashed away.

“We must walk a little further. I’ve nothing to keep you warm with except my own body. Would you allow me to put my arm around your shoulder?” Dosterta’s voice was polite and neutral.

Miataga was struck speechless. Who was this man that he would ask a whore’s permission before he touched him? He nodded and almost groaned as Dosterta’s arm slid around his shoulder and tucked him into the commander’s side. It wasn’t until the warmth invaded his body that Miataga realized how cold he was.

Winter was settling in around the country and the wind was bitter. His light silk shirt and cotton pants were no hindrance to the cold.

He sighed and snuggled closer to Dosterta. “Your uniform must keep you warm.”

“I’m used to temperatures colder than this. I was born high in the Easterly Mountains where winter comes early and leaves late.” Dosterta’s voice held a twinge of the rough accent Miataga had heard when he had serviced Easterly tradesmen.

“The Easterlies aren’t a part of Emmen. Why would you come here to serve in the army?” He asked though he knew he could be punished for it. Few people appreciated an intelligent whore.

“It was Vikex who called me here.” As Dosterta stopped and dropped his arm, Paster arrived.

“Sir, I brought a coat and boots. I took the liberty of bringing a pair of gloves and a scarf. If you plan on leaving on the wing, then he should be warm.” Paster nodded towards Miataga.

“Thank you, Paster. Inform the quartermaster to take it out of my pay. Now go back to bed, son. I’ll see you in a month or two.” Dosterta ordered the young man away.

Miataga watched the young courier raced away. When he brought his gaze back, he almost fell over at the sight of Dosterta kneeling on the ground in front of him.

“No, Commander. I can put my boots on myself.” He protested as Dosterta picked up his foot. He had to reach out and grab hold of the commander’s shoulders or he would have toppled over. A moan of pleasure ripped through him at the touch of the warm silky material.

A shudder ran down the spine of the commander. He wondered at that. None of the other men he had serviced ever enjoyed his touch. They were quick to get in and get it done. There was no build up and no enjoyment of it. He moaned again as the commander slipped off his slipper and ran a finger over the arch of his foot.

“Put your foot on my thigh while I unlace the boots.” Dosterta placed his foot on the thick muscles of his thighs.

Heat swelled over his foot and headed right to his groin. His cock hardened and began to throb. He had never gotten turned on by a man from just simply touching him. His fingers crept up to stroke the vulnerable neck left bare by the commander’s bowed head. He knew his fingertips were soft like a woman’s. He traced small circles and the commander sighed.

“I’d let you do that all day, but it’s cold and you need to be warm.” Dosterta tugged one boot on and laced it up. He quickly did the same with the other of Miataga’s boots. Standing, his eyes burned with desire and he leaned forward.

“I want to kiss you, Commander,” Miataga whispered. “Take off your mask, so I may touch your lips.”

Dosterta jerked away from him with a flare of fear in his eyes. Shaking his head, the commander moved a few feet from him. “Put on your coat and scarf. If you wish to wear the gloves, you may. I must call Vikex, so we may leave.”

Miataga wondered what had caused the fear in the commander’s eyes. If not for that flash, he would have thought Dosterta was disgusted by the thought of kissing him. Not many men wanted to kiss their whores. It was considered too intimate a gesture to waste on someone they paid for sex. He wound the scarf around his neck and tucked the ends in under the wool coat he slipped on. Both the scarf and coat were thick and warm. They were made from the hair of the mountain goats raised on the Easterly Mountains and imported by merchants to sell in Emmen. His coat and scarf had been dyed a golden color to match the commander’s uniform. Miataga stroked the soft material and thought about touching the commander’s skin. His cock surged to life and hardened. Looking up, he noticed Dosterta had moved off a little ways.

He jumped when the commander threw back his head and a wild cry burst forth. He shuddered as a fierce yearning ripped through him. A yearning to be free and to be able to fly the skies without having to submit to anyone. An answering cry came from the sky and he lifted his eyes to watch for the commander’s bond mate.

Monday, August 25th, 2008, by , Filed under: Excerpts,Eye Candy,Poetry Train| | 18 Comments