The Blazing Tempest

DISCLAIMER: This story is a non-commercial work of fiction based on the anime/manga Samurai 7. Original copyright of Samurai 7 belongs to Akira Kurosawa, Shinobu Hashimoto, Hideo Oguni, MICO, GDH, GONZO. Absolutely no monetary gain has been made with this work.


THE BLAZING TEMPEST
By Rory V. Pascual (Edited by Saiyukihana)
© Original Version 2001; Samurai 7 Version June 19, 2006


Chapter Four

The caravan continued on its way. Shichiroji noticed that his days had begun to follow a fixed routine. Mornings were spent leading the caravan through the desert. This was accompanied by invigorating, yet often infuriating, verbal sparring with Shinno. The man had a mouth that Shichiroji was sorely tempted to wash AND scrub out with soap and lye. It was not because of his colorful curses. Shinno had a way of hitting him where it hurts the most -- his heart and his conscience. Thankfully though, he was up to the challenge, his only regret that the little fantasy scene at the oasis was never repeated.

His nights, on the other hand, after conferences with Tessai, involved lessons with the whoremaster, followed by, to him, great bouts of sex with Takeru. On the evenings that Shinno was unavailable, he spent it talking to the members of the caravan, trying to determine the identity of the mysterious ninja. His suspicion remained strong that the ninja was traveling with the caravan.

Since he had revealed his true intentions, Takeru had become compliant, enduring Shichiroji's abuse with silent fortitude. Afterwards, the concubine would patiently clean up the traces of their coupling from the Warrior's body. There were times, as he watched Takeru, Shichiroji regretted what he was doing to the concubine. Many times, he would find himself gently caressing the hint of a high cheekbone under the concubine's veil. At his touch, Takeru would stiffen instinctively. Though he was burning with curiosity, Shichiroji stifled the urge to touch Takeru's face again.

Such docility was not a characteristic of Shinno, although he never broached the topic of the concubine to the Samurai again. Apparently, that warning he had given Shichiroji at the wadi was sufficient enough. With every passing day, however, it was obvious to Shichiroji that the whoremaster's anger and hatred towards him grew, especially if, during the previous night, the Warrior had been brutal with Takeru. Shinno would become more vicious with his attacks, but Shichiroji would always bring him back to his senses with a hard blow or a painful wrenching away of his katana. But it became difficult with each passing day that Shinno's skills improved. Skills that reminded him more and more of the ninja.

This night was no exception. This time, lessons were held within the vault of a dried up well. Shinno was exceptionally aggressive. To Shichiroji, it seemed like the man was determined to kill him. To his dismay, judging from the expression on Masamune and Gorobei's faces, the whoremaster's two confidants were just as eager to see Shinno succeed.

For once, Shichiroji broke his own rule -- he lost his temper. When Shinno thrust his blade at the Samurai's neck, Shichiroji stepped to the side and grabbed the katana with his left hand, the sharp edge cutting his palm. Yanking it out of the surprised man's grasp and letting it drop to the ground, Shichiroji let his right hand fly out, slapping Shinno hard on the face. The blow was so strong that it knocked the whoremaster to the ground. As Shinno lay panting for breath at his feet, the Warrior felt a sense of satisfaction, seeing the bloodstain on the scarf. There was a hint of fear in those beautiful brown eyes, though rage still burned fiercely.

// What is Takeru to you, Shinno? // Shichiroji asked inside his mind. // Are you brothers? Lovers? Why the need to guard your identities so fiercely? //

Unconsciously, Shichiroji had raised his sword, the tip teasing the silk over his student's face.

"Keep your blade away from my face!" Shinno snarled at him.

"Perhaps I should touch you with my hand instead," the Warrior suggested.

Revolted, the whoremaster declared, "There's blood on your hand."

At these words, Shichiroji raised his palm, showing him the dull gray metal of his prosthesis. The Samurai wiped the blood off with his handkerchief.

Seeing the stunned expression on the whoremaster's face, Shichiroji asked smugly, "What blood? It's easy to remove blood from metal." Squatting down before Shinno, he remarked, "I am intrigued with you, Shinno." His student started to inch away, but Shichiroji grabbed his wrist. "It seems I haven't demanded enough from you."

Shinno didn't miss the innuendo in those words. Furiously, he yanked his hand out of the Warrior's grasp and got to his feet.

"Do not push me, Shichiroji!" Shinno hissed in his face. "I have already given you everything I have to offer! EVERYTHING!"

As Shichiroji stood up, he met his student's fierce gaze with his own. "Everything? I think not. If you want me to remain your trainer, I want more from you."

The Warrior watched as the man before him stiffened at that remark, the disgust and fury shining in his eyes. Then, Shinno lowered his gaze, his hands clenched tightly into fists.

In a controlled tone, he asked softly. "How would you want me, Samurai? On my knees or on my back?"

"Any position would do. I don't care. As long as all these garments come off." Shichiroji's fingers brushed over the silk scarf. "Including this."

"Have you no fear?" the whoremaster asked him in disbelief. "If you persist in this foolishness, do you know what Gorobei could do to you?"

Shichiroji looked meaningfully at the moor. "He would die before he could ever lay his sword on me."

"I'm not afraid of him!" Gorobei said strongly as he unsheathed his sword. "I'd rather die than see him touch you!"

"Old man though I am," Masamune added, "I will fight for you as well!"

However, seeing the seriousness on the Warrior's face, Shinno replied in weary resignation, "Gorobei, Masamune, I want you to leave us alone."

"No!" the moor argued vehemently. "I will not leave you here with him! I will save you!"

Shinno sighed. "There is nothing left of me to save. I lost everything a long, long time ago. I will not lose both of you too." Turning to the scribe, he asked, "Masamune? You understand, don't you? Please take Gorobei with you."

Grudgingly, Masamune answered, "I understand. Though it's difficult for me to accept, I understand perfectly." Laying a hand on Gorobei's shoulder, he urged, "Come with me, my friend."

"But Masamune, we can't leave Shinno here, not with him!"

"Shinno knows what he's doing. He'll be fine," the scribe assured the moor. Gazing sadly at his beloved master, he added, "He's a survivor. Allah will protect him."

For a while, Gorobei was adamant about staying, refusing to budge.

"Gorobei, I'm begging you!" said Shinno earnestly. "I must do this. I need Shichiroji to train me. There's no other way. He's the only one who could… Please, my dear friend! I will not have you see me in…in his…"

Shinno could not finish what he was going to say, casting his eyes down instead.

Feeling Masamune tugging at his arm once more, the moor, at last, reluctantly allowed the scribe to lead him away.

When the two men were gone, Shinno's hands hesitantly went up to the silk around his face.

"No," said Shichiroji, stopping him. "There is no need for that. You may keep your precious anonymity. Your breeches would be enough."

Obediently, Shinno removed the ties of his breeches and let it fall down his long, graceful legs. He then stepped out of the garment. His loose shirt concealed his genitals from Shichiroji's view.

"Now, get down on your knees."

Following Shichiroji's command, the whoremaster said solemnly, "Before you take me, let me tell you that I do this only for Takeru. Through hand signs, he told me everything. He said that you harbor hatred specifically towards the Amanushi. What did the Amanushi do to you?"

"It's a long, boring story. Suffice to say that during the Civil War in my country, it was the Amanushi's men who captured me. He forced me to endure unspeakable abuse. He made me play whore in his bedchamber as well as to his men. He…" Shichiroji's hands closed into tight fists. "He turned the man I love against me and our comrades. I was able to escape after a year of torment, sans my left arm. Although I left my homeland for a time and waited until the war was over, I've been keeping in touch with reliable sources as to his...activities. I've learned that he too has decided to leave the country and has been dealing with evil warriors and unscrupulous foreigners in this land. When the opportunity presented itself for me to lead his caravan and protect his precious whore, I did not think twice. This was the beginning of the vengeance I had been waiting for for the past fifteen years."

"Then why do you hurt Takeru, Shichiroji? Whatever it is the Amanushi did to you, Takeru is innocent. He does not deserve your anger and your vengeance."

"You ask why I hurt him?" Shichiroji declared. "Haven't you ever thought that, aside from the Amanushi, you are the cause, you are the reason why I take my anger out on Takeru?"

Shinno shook his head in bewilderment. "I...I don't understand."

"YOU HATE ME, SHINNO!" The Warrior stated outright. "You hate me just as much as I hate that accursed Amanushi, and I want to know why!"

"I...I don't hate you! Why should I hate you?"

"Don't lie to me! I see it in your eyes! Sometime in the past, you've known me. It's obvious because you're familiar with my sword style. I don't know what I've done to you, but it's enough to drive you to want to learn the skills necessary to kill me. You even went so far as to get me for a trainer so you could learn my style and take my head later on!"

"I will not deny it!" Shinno retorted. "I DO HATE YOU, SHICHIROJI! I want you dead! For the way you've been hurting Takeru and, most of all, for the way you've betrayed me!"

"I betrayed you?" queried Shichiroji. "Maybe you should help me refresh my memory."

"All will be revealed in due time, I assure you." Shinno sat on his haunches, his head raised in defiance. "Well, Samurai, now that our hidden motives are exposed, what next?"

Shichiroji circled the whoremaster like a hawk. "I could kill you before you take my head. But I won't do that. I've always loved a challenge, Shinno, and you are an intriguing adversary. I WILL continue to teach you. When that time comes and we should face each other in battle, we shall see who shall remain standing. However..."

The Warrior loved the way those lovely brown eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Continuing, Shichiroji said, "This time, if you want to learn everything, and I do mean EVERYTHING, from me, you must be willing to pay much more than you have already given me." Bending down, he raised Shinno's shirt slightly to reveal the golden mounds of his buttocks. Rubbing his hand over the smooth skin, he muttered, "I'm sure you know what I mean."

Shinno swallowed hard and then nodded his head. "Agreed! However, I ask that you spare Takeru of your anger and hatred towards the Amanushi and I. If it's rape you want, you may do so with me. I can take it. Do whatever you want with me, but please, PLEASE DO NOT hurt Takeru! Promise me this!"

"I promise," Shichiroji replied simply.

At first, the whoremaster looked at the Samurai, gauging his sincerity. But Shichiroji's face was unreadable. Shinno closed his eyes as the Warrior's hands slid under his sweat-drenched shirt, playing with the small nubs. Those tormenting fingers fluttered down towards his belly and crotch. He bit his lower lip as Shichiroji's hands enveloped his cock, stroking him gently.

"Tessai is right. You need to be tamed, my student," the Samurai whispered in his ear. "And raping you is not the way to do it. I am a Master, Shinno, not just with weapons." Giving the whoremaster's member a squeeze, he added, "I think you will enjoy the things I will teach you."

"No! Never!" said Shinno sharply, pulling Shichiroji's hands off his cock. But the Warrior gripped his hips and bent him over that his rump was raised high in the air.

"I want you burning with desire for me, Shinno," Shichiroji muttered, positioning himself on top of his student, spreading his thighs wide apart. "I will have you know that the man you hate is the only man who could ever give you pleasure."

At these words, the Samurai slipped a slender finger inside the whoremaster. Shinno gasped, his channel constricting instinctively to block the invader. But Shichiroji was patient, waiting until he felt the pressure ease. Gently, he inserted two more fingers inside, stretching the tiny opening. Shinno tried to keep silent, but the Warrior's tender ministrations have greatly aroused him. To his dismay, a yearning whimper escaped his lips as the Samurai withdrew his fingers. That sweet sound brought a smile to Shichiroji's lips.

Seeing that his student was ready for him, Shichiroji eased the head of his cock just...a bit...inside...

Shinno screamed in pain, tears streaming from his eyes.

Feeling the whoremaster tense up, the Warrior embraced him comfortingly. "Easy, Shinno! Breathe!"

Resigned to his fate, Shinno surrendered himself to Shichiroji, taking long deep breaths, while the Samurai penetrated him. When the tip of Shichiroji's cock brushed his sensitive spot, the whoremaster cried out once more, but this time, in pleasure.

Breaching Shinno fully, the Warrior began to move his hips, slowly at first, then faster and faster. The whoremaster trembled all over, lost in the passions the Samurai aroused in him. When Shichiroji once again took his aching cock in his hands, Shinno tried to squirm away, but only succeeded in thrusting his hips upwards, impaling himself deeply on the Warrior's hard organ.

Shinno gasped out, "Please stop! No more!" But Shichiroji did not heed his cries, determined to give his student pleasure.

Consumed by the flames of desire, the two men moved as one, primal animals longing for release, but dreaded the inevitability of its coming. Their orgasm was explosive. Shichiroji screamed as he spurted his fluids deep inside his student. As he ejaculated, he squeezed his reluctant lover's organ, milking it of its copious essence. Unable to hold both their weights, Shinno collapsed on the floor, the scarf falling from his face. Weakened by the intensity of their coupling, he could only manage to press his face to his arm.

When his cock had softened, Shichiroji eased himself out of Shinno. Seeing the blood flowing from the blossom of the rose opening, the Warrior took out his handkerchief and wiped it away. Hearing Shinno's stifled sobs, Shichiroji laid his kerchief on the floor, leaned down and kissed the bared cheek. The whoremaster whimpered, pressing the scarf over his face.

"That was wonderful!" he breathed in his student's ear. "Thank you."

Putting on his breeches, Shichiroji stood up and secured the buckle of his belt. As he made his way towards the rope ladder leading back up to the surface, the whoremaster's voice stopped him.

"Takeru…" Shinno said, his voice shaking.

Shichiroji looked at his student in surprise. "Of course I have need of Takeru's services tonight! We did have an arrangement, remember?"

The whoremaster stared at him in shock, not believing what he just heard. "Don't tell me you could still...?" Shinno asked hopefully. "You...you won't hurt him."

"My dear Shinno! I'll do whatever I want with him."

"But...but you promised!"

Not looking at Shinno, the Warrior replied icily, "I lied. I am Shichiroji. No one tells me what to do."

~~~~~~~~~~

In his haste to reach his tent, Takeru all but stumbled through the opening. The sight of the man lounging against the cushions stopped him cold.

"You're late," Shichiroji declared as he rose from the mat, walking towards the concubine.

Takeru gasped as the Warrior grabbed his hair, pulling his veiled head back.

"I don't like to be kept waiting," Shichiroji muttered ominously.

Before cockcrow, the Warrior walked out of his tent, leaving behind a man lying on his mat, his body raped and bleeding. It took several minutes after Shichiroji's departure before Takeru could move. Slowly, he eased himself up to a sitting position, wincing in pain.

From his torn garments, he produced a handkerchief, already stained with blood. Gingerly, he wiped the blood and semen away from his rump and between his thighs. Disgusted by the traces of his defilement, his strokes became hard and fast, but he knew he could never be clean.

For a long moment, he just sat there, panting for breath, trying to calm his nerves. Slowly, he removed his veil. With a furious swipe of the fabric, he wiped away the tears from his face. Staring at the dying embers of the brazier, his jaw hardened, letting the rage fill him.

"I won't cry!" Shinno swore under his breath. "I won't cry, certainly not over a bastard like you, Shichiroji!"

~~~~~~~~~~

Shichiroji rode in stoic silence, ignoring the fierce glares that Masamune and Gorobei were throwing at him. It was all too apparent to him that the two men were aware of what he had done to Shinno and Takeru last night. In truth, he couldn't care less about what they thought of him. He had long since gone deaf to the opinions of others and the calls of his conscience.

At that thought, the image of a frail, but beautiful, woman filled his mind. The memory of his loving wife pinched at his heart.

"This is wrong, Shichiroji, and you know that." The Samurai could hear the reproach in Yukino's words.

"I have to do this, Yukino," he answered the vision. "I've waited too long."

"Can't you find it in you to forget? It's been ten years!"

"How could I forget? He betrayed all of us who believed in him as our leader! I loved him and, yet, he betrayed me! And I even called him 'husband'!"

Yukino shook her head in sorrow. "I hope you don't regret this, Shichiroji. For your sake..."

As his wife faded from his memory, Shichiroji muttered firmly, "I know I won't."

"Are you asleep, you fool?" a hate-filled voice suddenly said beside him. "Maybe I should give you a wallop on that loathsome facial protuberance you call a nose. Better yet, I think it would be best if I put you out of your misery right now and lop of your head."

Shichiroji's eyes flashed in anger as he looked at the masked figure who somehow managed to sneak up beside him. Like him, Shinno was riding an Arabian stallion, but the whoremaster's steed was jet black in color. He wasn't at all surprised to find that the horse was well-trained, probably by Shinno's hands. If there's anything he recognized at first glance, it's a powerful war steed.

"Don't push me, Shinno," the Samurai warned him. "I'm not in a good mood."

"Is that so? If that's the case, you must always remind me when you're in a foul temper. After last night, I will not let you lay a single finger on Takeru ever again."

"SHINNO!" Tessai called out from the carriage that had halted a few meters behind them. "I turn my back for a few minutes and you're up to your old tricks! Get back here this instant!"

"Will I never have a single moment's peace!" exclaimed the whoremaster in exasperation.

Before he could leave, Shichiroji grabbed his arm. "Do you think you can stop me? Watch yourself, Shinno. You wouldn't want me to vent my rage on you."

As the Samurai looked into Shinno's eyes, he was stunned by the anguish he saw in them. Such was the effect that those deep brown orbs had on him that he found himself releasing the whoremaster's arm.

"What do you intend to do to me, Shichiroji?" Shinno asked him, each word reflecting his deep hurt. "Don't you know that there is nothing you can do to damage me even further?"

The whoremaster got down from his horse, handing the reins to the Warrior. His steps were slow and heavy as he went back to the carriage. Just as he reached the door, Tessai yanked him inside. Shichiroji winced, hearing the sharp whacks of that whip. Although Tessai's curses were audible, there were no cries of pain from Shinno. When all was silent, the soft sounds of weeping reached his ears.

In answer to the question inside his mind, Masamune said, "That's Takeru. He could never bear seeing Shinno being hurt." The scribe gave the Samurai a meaningful glance. "In the same way, it breaks Shinno's heart when Takeru's been abused."

"Are you telling me it's my fault?" Shichiroji asked in irritation.

Gorobei spoke up, "Only you could answer that question. But I will tell you this. I've never seen Shinno or Takeru as unhappy as they are now. Then again, I doubt if you even care about the feelings of two whores."

At once, Yukino's words returned to him. "For your sake, Shichiroji, I hope you don't regret this."

The Samurai gazed at the two men. In all firmness, he said, "You're right, Gorobei. I don't care one bit about a pair of whores."

~~~~~~~~~~

Noon saw the caravan temporarily camped beside a hill near Ain-Sefra. Still sulking, Shichiroji chose to stay away from the group of travelers, sitting with his back to a date palm. As he gazed up at the majestic peaks of the Atlas Mountains, he willed his mind to go blank, assuming a meditative trance.

With his surroundings blocked out, the Samurai did not notice Tessai emerge from the tent, dragging a man with him. Before he could vocally contradict the adviser's wishes, he reeled back from the fierce slap on his cheek. Tessai forced him to straighten up, thrusting a tray of food in his arms. He then gestured angrily in the direction of Shichiroji. With a weary sigh of resignation, the man headed out to obey the adviser's command.

Shichiroji snapped out of his trance when a shadow blocked out the sun's rays. Opening his eyes, the first thought that crossed his mind was that he was looking at an angel.

A servant stood before him, bearing a tray in his hands. The djellabah he wore barely concealed the firm body within. The Samurai could see the lines of that lithe form as a dark silhouette in the sunlight. His long brown hair reached down to his buttocks, fluttering in the light breeze behind him. However, when his eyes focused on that face, Shichiroji was immediately dismayed. Except for his cocoa brown eyes, a scarf covered the lower half of his face.

"Take it away!" the Samurai said crossly. "I need nothing from you, Shinno!"

Beneath his mask, Shinno's jaw hardened. "Why? Do you think that I would poison you? I'll just be wasting excellent rat killer on you."

"We're wasting both our time, Master of Whores. Leave me be!"

"Believe me, the last thing I want to do is to grovel before you. This is Tessai's idea. He thinks that I must...make amends...for my and Takeru's appalling behavior to you these past few days."

"And would you do that? Apologize, I mean."

Shinno's desert brown eyes were as sharp as a scimitar's blade. "I think you know me better than that." He held out the tray impatiently. "Here! Take it! I want this loathsome task over and done with!"

"Is it loathsome for you to serve and honor your teacher?"

"Only at night, or any time that I need your instruction, would I consider you my teacher. I owe you no respect outside of that period. I see no need to respect a man that finds pleasure in rape."

Shichiroji's head snapped up to glare at the whoremaster's face. Whatever retort he had, he left it unsaid. Instead, a mocking grin formed on his lips.

"Tessai is right," he said, his voice oozing with disdain. "I do need an apology from you, and the best way for you to do it is to serve me. Very well, Shinno! Start groveling!"

The whoremaster's grip tightened on the tray, his knuckles turning white from the strain. Shinno closed his eyes, again, that resigned sigh issuing from his lips. With tempered grace, he slowly sank to his knees, laying the tray on the sand beside Shichiroji.

"What is your pleasure, Shichiroji-sama?" he asked in the proper reverence. With a wave of his hand, Shinno gestured to the food on the tray. "We have bread, dates, dried meat and camel's milk. What do you desire?"

"The bread will do," Shichiroji answered.

But as the whoremaster held out the bun to him on the palm of his hand, the Samurai readily added, "Feed me."

Again, for a brief moment, that sharp glance. Lowering his gaze, Shinno pinched off a piece of bread between his fingertips, offering it before the Warrior's face.

Shichiroji paused, gazing at man before him. However, what was visible on Shinno's face was devoid of emotion or expression. Just that bland submissiveness. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Shichiroji hated seeing it in this proud whoremaster.

The Samurai's lips parted and Shinno placed the tidbit on his tongue. Shichiroji tried to trap the man's fingers in his mouth, but Shinno quickly pulled his hand back. With every piece of bread that was offered, the game continued, the whoremaster winning with every evasive move. In the end, as it was common among losers, it was the Warrior who lost his patience. As the whoremaster was about to pick up a date, Shichiroji grabbed his wrist.

The suddenness of the Samurai's action caught Shinno by surprise. Startlement cross the whoremaster's features, as well as fear. Shichiroji hated that sign of vulnerability even more.

"What is it you like, Shichiroji-sama?" Shinno asked, a slight tremor in his voice. With his free hand, he reached out for the cup. "May I offer you some milk?"

Before the whoremaster could take it, the Warrior swept the cup from the tray. Shinno's jaw dropped, seeing the milk spill onto the sand.

"What have you done?" the whoremaster gasped out in shock. "Do you know what you've done?"

The answer that Shichiroji had was never able to escape his lips for a stern Tessai strode towards them. The adviser's eyes focused on the fallen cup and, especially, the firm grip that the Samurai had on Shinno's wrist.

"Has this whore displeased you again, Shichiroji?" Tessai queried, his voice dripping with menace. "Shinno, what kind of mischief have you been up to?"

"He did nothing," Shichiroji spoke up. "Both of us were reaching for the cup, but I knocked it over."

"That's not what it looked like to me." Turning to Shinno, he ordered, "You! Go and fetch a fresh cup from the tent! Perhaps I should start treating you as the servant and whore that you truly are."

The whoremaster hastened to get to his feet, but Shichiroji kept his hand on the man's wrist. "There is no need. Shinno is quite capable of providing for my needs." Saying this, the Samurai parted Shinno's robes to reveal his firm chest.

A grin quirked up Tessai's lips. "Yes, I forgot all about that. We give him a special drug to make him capable of producing such a sweet fluid. Perhaps I shall have a treat myself later on."

As the Amanushi's adviser burst into laughter, Shichiroji saw that the whoremaster's head was lowered, his hands gripping his knees. He could tell how humiliated the man was to have this induced quirk of his anatomy exposed in such a manner. Then, to the Samurai's shock, Tessai swatted Shinno painfully on the back of his head.

"Be good, rebellious whore!" the adviser declared in warning. "Please this great warrior as you would the Amanushi. I shall deal with you later." At these words, Tessai left them alone.

For a moment, the two men didn't speak. Then, in a voice hoarse with pain, Shinno muttered, "Do what you will with me, Shichiroji. Just do it!"

Shichiroji wanted to do what Shinno ordered him -- to take him as he had Takeru, to dominate, to hurt. But the vulnerability in the man now kept those dark urges in check. Instead, he took the whoremaster gently in his arms. Tenderly, he pressed his face to Shinno's nipple and began to feed. At that contact, the Warrior felt the man stiffen, anticipating the pain. Instead, Shichiroji gave him comfort, concentrated on the hands rubbing at that stiff back and the tender lapping of his lips and tongue upon those tits. The Samurai drank and drank, intoxicated by the sweet essence of the whoremaster. So he was surprised when he felt arms wrap around him, like a mother holding her child in her embrace. This was followed by a drop of something warm and wet upon his cheek.

Above him, Shichiroji heard Shinno whisper, "I...I cannot apologize. You cannot make me beg for your forgiveness. But...but...I don't want either of us to be hurt anymore."

"It won't change things even if you did," the Samurai answered. "I cannot be turned from my path."

Shichiroji felt his blood run cold as Yukino's words were thrown back at him. "For your sake, Shichiroji, I hope you don't regret this path that you have chosen."

~~~~~~~~~~

He sat quietly in his tent, staring blankly at the brazier before him, as the servant girl ran the brush through his hair. He was supposed to have another lesson with the Samurai tonight, but chose at the last minute not to. He couldn't bear to be with him, not after what happened earlier. There was a desperate need to focus, to center himself. More than anything else, he did not want to be made to feel like a plaything.

However, this momentary respite was to be denied him, noticing Tessai's approach out of the corner of his eye.

"Leave us," Tessai ordered the servant away. The girl did as she was commanded.

He felt the adviser's lustful gaze boring into him. The thin robes he wore were a flimsy protection against its heat.

"I have to hand it to Shichiroji," Tessai remarked. "I haven't seen you this...compliant...in quite some time. We should have sent for him long before and spared us the agony of your rebellious attitude."

Eager hands disrobed him, trembling fingers running all over his skin. He did not broach any protest as he was laid on the soft pillows. He closed his eyes, hoping to block out the sight of that leering face above him. But it did nothing to keep him from feeling that cruel mouth suckling at his breasts or the thrust of a large cock within his nether region.

"You are so beautiful, do you know that?" Tessai whispered in his ear.

He tried to draw his mind away from the coupling, anywhere except the here and now. However, what his traitorous mind focused on was a scene by a date palm -- the Samurai suckling at his nipple, running a comforting hand on his back. It was not something he wanted to remember.

Thankfully, he was drawn out of that memory by a warm gush within him. Tessai was never able to hold himself for long. Better to concentrate on the fluid spurting inside him, that flaccid sex trying desperately to regain its imposing stature as it scraped along his bruised flesh.

He did not want to hear those hateful words. "I cannot be turned from my path."

He wished for tomorrow to come -- another day for him to plot his revenge against the people who have tormented him. Against the one man who, in a single night, changed his life.

But for now, he did not want to think about Shichiroji. He didn't want to sleep at all. He knew that if he did, the tears would come. And he did not want to cry again.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Where is Shinno?" Shichiroji asked Masamune, who was sharing Gorobei's tent that night. "I thought we shall be having sword lessons this eve."

"Not tonight," the scribe replied, shaking his head. "Both he and Takeru are with Tessai."

The Samurai snorted. "Greedy bastard, isn't he? Not even thinking about sharing."

"I think he got that idea from you," said Masamune in sarcasm.

The Samurai ignored that comment. "I've been meaning to ask you this for quite some time. What is going on between Shinno and Takeru? Why is Shinno so protective of him aside from the obvious that he is the Emir's prized whore?"

"Haven't you guessed it yet? They are brothers, Shichiroji. Twins, to be exact." Masamune gave the Warrior a bow. "Good night, Shichiroji. I hope you have a pleasant sleep tonight."

As the scribe walked away, the Warrior found himself staring at the concubine's tent. Brothers...twins...that explains a lot of things. But it brought with it other questions as well. And there was something that trouble him deeply.

That tender moment he had shared with Shinno...how did that happen? Inwardly, he cursed himself for succumbing to that impulse for comfort and tenderness. He had only felt that way with Yukino. Why now, and with the object of his revenge?

In a way, there was something about Shinno that reminded him of his late wife. Same also for Takeru. It was a dangerous kind of emotion, something that could steer him away from his course.

"I...I cannot apologize. You cannot make me beg for your forgiveness." Now, that was the kind of response he expected from the proud whoremaster. What he had said next, however, caught him off-guard. "But...but...I don't want either of us to be hurt anymore." That, and the tear that fell upon his cheek.

There was something in the man that brought out that side of him that still believed in goodness. It was a weakness that he could not allow to surface once more.

Better that he remember who he truly was -- a Samurai, the one man the Amanushi counted on to tame his precious whores.

But why did Shichiroji suddenly find this task so distasteful to him?


* * * * * * * * * *