DISCLAIMER: ROAR and its characters are the property of Universal Television and Sea Change Productions. The author is not using these characters with permission. No infringement on copyright is intended. Any duplication or reprint is allowed ONLY with authors' permission. AUTHOR E-mail: carolzee@worldnet.att.net All comments welcomed.

Story Rating: "R" WARNING! ADULT SITUATIONS and SEXUAL CONTENT, GRAPHIC VIOLENCE.

"Blood Oath" [Sequel to The Eternal-Part 2] by Carol Zeltman

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The previous story, The Eternal, ended as follows: Longinus and Diana plot to rid themselves of Conor and his band by using Chieftain Morgan. After torturing an emissary from Morgan, they learn of a blood oath between the late King Derek (Conor's father) and Morgan, which now falls upon Conor as sole surviving blood relative. The Romans plan to use this long-standing enmity as leverage to appeal to Morgan's honor, forcing an attack on Conor. They also plan to use Morgan's men to supplement their own forces in a two-front attack. Conor and Molly have just consummated their new marriage and Fergus is recovering from a shoulder wound dealt to him by a malcontent Sanctuary resident, newly evicted by Conor. A spy, loyal to the Confederation has learned of the Roman's treachery and is in route to the Sanctuary to warn them.
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The lone rider rode hard all night, stopping only to rest his horse as necessary. The next day finds him still heading for the Sanctuary, knowing that the news he carries means life or death to so many, and especially to one.
Nearby, a small, armed group of warriors watch the rider's passage secluded by a tree-lined hillock. Their leader motions to follow the rider, and silently, they turn their mounts to obey.
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Molly gazes upon her new husband in admiration and tenderness. He was soundly asleep on his back, breathing through his mouth, his nose still sore from yesterday's bruising. She lay next to him in bed, propped up on one elbow silently watching him and fondly remembering the wonders of last night. The bed covers lay tumbled over him, only partially covering his legs. Even in repose he was beautiful, his muscles relaxed, a smooth, clean line of form. He possessed a healthy, virile body. Contrasting lines clearly evident between the sun darkened and the other, paler areas of skin. Brushing a stray wisp of blond curl from his ear, she leans in closer, "Husband, it's morning..." softly whispering into his ear.
He hears her and stirs, eyes fluttering open and immediately squinting from the light of the room. Turning towards her, he stretches languidly from head to toe, and reaching, pulls her up onto his body and grins, "G'morning..." punctuated with an openmouthed kiss to hers. She returns the kiss eagerly, and soon feels a familiar stirring against her lower stomach.
Breaking from the kiss, "Shall we start our day as we ended our night?" with a smile and blush.
Moaning in reply, he rolls her over onto her back, quickly pulling away the remaining bedcovers from her body. Their breathing quickens as their caresses increase to a flurry, the excitement quickly building, senses heightening to a fevered pitch. Each breath, a ragged gasp. Every touch sending shivers of ecstasy to their spines. Finally, Molly cries aloud, "Oh... now!" and he mounts her obligingly. They roll across the bed in frenzy, locked bodies heaving in the sensuous dance of lovers.
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Meanwhile outside their chamber:
Fergus was up and about, much steadier today, his shoulder healing well. He and Catlin were taking their morning meal together at the campfire nearby Conor's chamber. "Did you hear that?" he asks of her, glancing toward the chamber entrance.
"Yes, just don't listen, it's rude."
"Do they know people pass'in can hear them? What's wrong with that lad?"
"I think Molly would say nothing is wrong with him Fergus. Hush now!"
"It's early morn'in for the love of Bridgit!" he looks incredulously again at the chamber, the latest sounds of passion sounding loudly. Shaking his head, "Young people, no respect for tradition..."
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The rider was still some distance from his goal, but his followers were becoming impatient with their pursuit. Their leader orders interception, he would speak with this one riding so determinedly. They get in front of him and burst forth from the tree line, frightening the lone rider's mount into rearing. The rider is thrown and lands heavily, but unhurt. The leader moves his mount closer to the fallen man.
"Where do you ride so quickly?" he demands.
Recognizing the authority and menace in the words, the man replies, "An errand of import lord. Please let me be on my way." Standing, he grabs for his horses' reins. A second rider moves to block him.
"Stand and explain, I'm not done with you man!"
Frightened and outnumbered five times over, he offers, "I go to warn fellow countrymen of the Romans. Surely, you wouldn't delay me lord?" keeping an eye on his horse, now held by the other rider.
"The Romans have been here awhile, why warn now? The truth!" he warns.
Licking his lips, he considers this man, trying to read his motive. Deciding on cooperation he answers, "I go to warn the leader of the Confederation, of the Romans plot to kill him and to attack our people hidden from them."
"What is this leader's name?" he demands again.
"Conor, son of Derek." The man answers.
Smiling at his men in triumph, "We will escort you, keep you from harm. This news must be guarded" gesturing, "Give him his horse" he orders brusquely.
The man mounts his horse, now suspicious, regretful of his words to this lord. "Ride on man, we follow" the lord orders, still smiling. Nodding obediently, the man sets forth; the band of strangers following closely.
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Meanwhile, Diana, Longinus and their retinue are heading back towards their fort, having recently concluded their *brief* visit with Chieftain Morgan. Longinus was in a foul mood, his meticulous plans all for naught. Diana, usually cautious these days around him anyway, was especially careful not to antagonize. The effort it cost her to hold her tongue was enormous. Her lover was still seething with impotent rage.
"That man will come to know the error of refusing ME!" he said not for the first time that day. Chieftain Morgan had outright refused them the men they had hoped to use against Conor's confederation. Further stating he would not be the man to kill the last of an entire line and clan. As a final insult, he threw the Romans from his holding, warning them not to return on pain of death. Five Roman soldiers were killed as an example. It was obvious, he didn't believe the story told him of the fate of Trellor, his emissary and eldest son. Longinus was utterly unable to sway the old goat. Even Diana's considerable charms were flatly refused. Both were nearly inconsolable.
Longinus, cruelly yanking back on his mount's reins, "That senile old man ...he's too comfortable in his old age...I'll have to send someone back to discomfort him."
Riding beside him Diana offers, "At least his youngest son was more malleable, that should give you some hope."
"That braggart Kellen was too easily won. His only concern is having his father's power, promise him that and he'd slit YOUR throat. My confidence in him is small. Conor is inexperienced, but thus far very fortunate. I would find it difficult to believe a man like Kellen could best him. No doubt he'll be waiting at the fort with some sad excuse for his failure. And then I'll have to 'entertain' myself with him.... Hm-m-m, on second thought, that IS a warm idea."
Turns to Diana, "Maybe this trip wasn't worthless after all." And smiles evilly to himself, anticipating the tortures ahead for an unfortunate Kellen. Their party rides on.

===PART #2 ==== Blood Oath =============

Fergus was now aboveground in the practice field with Cat and Tully and the assorted wanna-be defenders. In Conor's absence, he had arranged the days' exercises. Since he couldn't yet participate, due to his recent wound, he took great satisfaction in yelling at others for every little error he saw. Also, the fact that Conor a nd Molly were STILL *busy* at nearly midday, left him a little disconcerted. He WAS a Da.
"You there!" pointing to a young man about to impale himself with a pike, "You're not at a fair lad...careful now... throw it INTO the target!" shaking his head in disbelief. "With this group we'd be lucky not to get massacred in an hour..."
"They are trying their best, you yelling every minute doesn't help. Try encouraging them, set an example." offers Catlin, stringing another arrow in her bow.
"Look there, Sweet Bridgit!" points at another man hacking away with a sword, his opponent countering from the ground clearly outmatched. He runs over to them, "Stop it! We're not here to kill each OTHER! Technique lads, not swing 'til 'ya drop!" he yells.
Suddenly a small cheer erupts from the field as men stand looking towards the Sanctuary entrance. Conor was striding towards them, a definite bounce to his step. Hearing the cheer he grins ear-to-ear, blushing red. In a small copse nearby, the leader of the armed band is crouched low with his men. The messenger held silent with a hand across the mouth and a dagger to his throat.
"Is that him?" whispers the leader, pointing to Conor striding alone across the field. The messenger nods carefully, mindful of the dagger. Sitting back on his haunches, the leader smiles.
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"Well it's about time lad... thought you'd forgotten your OTHER duties..." teases Fergus, noticing the glow about his young charge.
Conor, grinning but ignoring the tease, "I see you've got them practicing. Any casualties yet?"
"Nearly, they have the drive this lot...just a little thick-headed in carrying out orders."
"I'm sorry ta' be late."
"No you're not."
"Well, it was for a good cause."
"MY daughter is only a "good cause?"
"No, she's a sight more than that." with a grin.
"Stop it you two!" yells an exasperated Catlin.
Mumbling and muttering Fergus walks off, "First thing in the morning... in the light of day...not enough of it at night..."
"Molly is up too?" asks Cat innocently.
"Aye, she's helping with a sick child has a fever. The mother's heavy with another child near due." He surveys the field of men, back to their practice.
"That's good of her. We're lucky to have someone else with healer knowledge among us."
Conor, glancing to his feet, his face flushing, "Cat, I wanted to ask. How does all this with Molly and me... I mean... what do you... oh, never mind."
Catlin smiles and takes his hand in hers squeezing gently. "I'm pleased for you Conor. I hope you both find great joy in each other. I've even said a prayer to my Savior for your happiness together" she smiles reassuringly, pleased that he cared how she felt. "We're still great friends, aren't we?"
Looking into her eyes and speaking softly, "Always Cat. And I thank you for the prayer." Just then shouting Fergus goes storming by, after another poor soul about to kill himself. Conor and Cat stand there laughing at the sight.
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Longinus was in a pique. Striding through the Roman keep in a great flourish of robes and anger, all men stood away at his approach. The wretch Kellen had not even been here! Robbed again of fulfilling his plans, he was furious and looking to vent the rage on someone--anyone!
Diana, judiciously remained at a safe distance, watching from a high vantagepoint in the tower above. 'Could Kellen not yet have found Conor? Time enough had passed -- surely!' she thought. 'Where could the oaf Kellen be?' then sudden clarity dawned on her - 'the Sanctuary! That must be it, maybe captured?' she mulled this over, becoming more certain as instinct guided her. 'How to tell Longinus that I know where the Sanctuary is? He'll be furious that I haven't said so earlier...?' A huge crashing noise sounded from below, startling many horses and sending them stampeding. 'I must direct him away before he destroys the fort - but how?'
Longinus had just thrown some unfortunate fools across the corral. The physical exertion allaying his anger, he glances up towards Diana and makes contact with her eyes. 'She's up to something' he thinks, seeing uncertainty and then caution reflected in her eyes and posture.
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As dusk approaches another day at the Sanctuary, the tired men gather their weapons from the practice field and return down the stairway. Fergus and Conor bring up the rear of the group. Fergus was exhausted from all his supervising this day, his throat raw from shouting. Conor was exhausted from, well, you know...he HAD put some time in on the field with the others as well. A hunting party was also returning and seeing Conor, hails him over.
"We found this poor wretch in the wood near here on our way back. He's still alive, but I doubt for long." speaks one man lowering a bloody body down from his horse to Conor.
"Hurry, get him inside to the healer" orders Conor, taking the man's head and shoulders.
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Molly and Mother Ceridwen were tending the injured man. He had multiple knife wounds and was weak from loss of blood. Struggling to stay awake he spoke in mumbled fragments. Conor and Fergus stood aside, out of the way looking on. The man happens to recognize Conor nearby and frantically starts to motion to him, nearly choking.
"He wants you Conor" says Molly, glancing to him.
Kneeling near the man, he can barely hear the words, "Morgan ...Romans...killing..." he chokes for several minutes, gasping for air. "Sending to kill..." he manages, grabbing Conor's vest, he pulls himself up a few inches, "...kill... YOU...oath..." the man falls back, a last gasp and he's gone.
Standing, brow knit in concern, he turns to Fergus, "Kill me did he mean? He said Morgan."
Realization dawning, he grabs the elder by the arms, "Easy! Me arm!" warns Fergus.
"The only oath I know of connected to Morgan is the blood oath between Morgan and my father. Remember? So... he still holds to the blood oath? Even after my Da lies dead?"
Fergus nods, "He has known about your Da dy'in and that YOU still live for months now. I thought he'd taken some sense and decided to forgive the oath. After all he hadn't attacked King Derek since the last time nearly seven years ago."
"I remember that, I was twelve and ready to defend my family. Then you came along and locked me in the ale cellar until it was all over."
"Somebody had to hold you back - Sweet Bridgit - you were fired up hotter'n the sun! With no sense to 'ya!" Fergus again agitated at the memory.
"My Da, brother and cousins all fighting and me pound'in on a cellar trapdoor through it all. You should've let me fight Fergus."
Molly listening smiles at that. The thought of her husband at twelve, an eager, young warrior. 'He's not changed much' she thinks to herself.
"He also mentioned Romans...Diana?"
Again Fergus nods, "The nape of me neck is standing up just think'in about it."
"And he said 'sending to kill' But would that be Diana or Morgan?" he asks worriedly.
"We don't even know this man, maybe it's all a lie."
"If I were dying, I wouldn't be lying" Conor states with finality.
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