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
*********************************
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.

*****************************************
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.
*****************************************
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.
*******************************
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..."
*******************************
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.
*******************************
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.