Vikings and Egyptians

Kafele could only watch as the sandy shores of Egypt disappeared. He tried his best to remember the way his home smelled and sounded, but soon his senses were overwhelmed by salt water and the crash of water sloshing against the sides of the longship. He flinched, hearing the crack of a whip over head and shuffled down into the brig.

He was a young man, trained to be a scribe and having picked up a bit of medicinal know-how from his brothers, who were incredibly adept surgeons. They had only lost five patients in the past two weeks, and those were very good numbers when all you had to work with were a series of drills and serrated blades.

He was literate and knew more languages than he ought to, but no amount of pleading in the hodgepodge of Scandinavina languages could save him. As his grey-green eyes beheld the hairy men, he was very happy to be bald, because he could only imagine how hard a time they must have with lice. But that was the only thing he had to be thankful for.

He nearly fell over as the line of shackled captives lurched forward. He'd never been on the water before, so it took all his willpower to stay upright. He could see a red-haired brute looking his fellow captives over and deciding if they should die rowing or die cleaning. Either way, they were going to die.

His golden-brown skin helped mask his fear, otherwise he would have been pale with fear and green around the mouth with grief-sickness. He tried to make himself look as small as possible. The scent of burnt flesh reached his nose. Were they branding the slaves? He glanced down at his shoulder. He was only wearing a linen tunic, it was hot as home, after all. As the sea breeze picked up, he deeply regretted his sparse covering.

Aryn was growling deeply as he sat upon an empty keg, his pant leg rolled up to his knee.The young viking raider had been hit with an arrow, an arrow of all bloody things!.How embarrassing it was to watch his comrades point at the crippling wound and laugh, knowing full well the arrow would permanently damage the young vikings leg, as well as his abilities to fight forever, well at least from their point of view.They didn't have the medical prowess in order to remove the barbed projectile without causing a permanent limp so they'd left the cold wooden shaft embedded into Aryn's leg.

He swore loudly in his native tongue as the arrowhead inside his calf shifted somewhat, causing even more of his warm blood to gush forth from the wound."THOSE STUPID EGYPTIANS!" he hollered angrily."IF THEY FOUGHT LIKE REAL MEN I WOULDN'T HAVE THIS PROBLEM!" he cursed.Stupid bows....stupid Egyptians always turned and ran at the first sign of an axe.

He heard the viking loudly fretting in his guttural, native tongue. He was happy that they had managed to do some damage before having their entire city razed to the ground and looted for all the able bodies too stupid to escape. He knew that the arrow wound would become septic if it was not treated properly and the least of the Viking's worries was whether or not he could use the leg again.

Kafele stared at the shackles around his ankles and wrists. Maybe if he offered his skills he wouldn't be herded down into the brig to die.

"I know medicine," he said, breaking out of the line and stumbling towards the injured man. "I can take care of this so you don't lose your leg." Or at least he hoped that what's he said. His Scandenavian was a bit rusty.

The vikings immediately stopped talking, giving the young Egyptian a glare colder than ice and daggers.One of them raised their hand to smack the lad before the injured one stopped him."Yield!.....this one is mine" he stated with a growl "And I shall hit him at my leisure, not you".The injured viking spoke slowly so the slave could understand."Then fix it....and fix it right otherwise I'll be taking YOUR leg as compensation" he growled bitterly.

"I would dare say that my leg might be too short for your purposes," Kafele remarked. His quip wasn't meant to be insulting, he was just a literal kind of land. It came from his upbringing.

Thankfully the arrow hadn't gone completely through or Kafele would have had to break the shaft and extract the head from the other side. Instead he grabbed a nearby bottle of brandy, a short dagger and some fishing-line.

"This is going to sting." He hoped that by warning the warrior before hand he wouldn't get punched when he poured the distilled brandy in the wound nad it started to burn.

He quickly disinfected the dagger and cut around the arrow, pulling the barbed tip out. He removed any visible debris, rinsed it with water, and then closed it up with a piece of thread and the string. He wiped the blood on his muslin tunic.

The viking just growled quietly through the pain as the egyptian mended his leg."Just do well to remember who is the master and who is the servant" he reminded the man.As soon as his leg was bandaged he rolled his pant leg down and began to shove and shepard the tanned man below deck."Get moving...I have some more for you to do" he grumbled sourly.He wasn't much for thanks, especially considering he was still rather cold and rather miserable at that point.

Kafele was beginning to have second thoughts about his decision, as he was herded into the ship. He could hear his captured kinsmen grumbling at his "betrayal". It had all been in the interest of self-preservation. Was it his fault he had the skills and intelligence to keep himself alive amongst these barbarians?

"What else do you want me to do?"

He hadn't been born a slave, so he had no idea that perhaps it was not wise to speak out of turn. He was a privileged man from a well off and influential family. Hell, he was planning on buying a bride later that year with all the wealth he planned on amassing. So much for that.

He slid into his room quietly behind his slave and slammed the door.He made sure all his comrades we're out of earshot before he turned to the slave, his gazed softening somewhat, but was still noble and proud.He undid the thick furs covering his chest, the heavy fur and ring mail thunking to the floor before he turned to expose his back, the skin of which had several thick cuts along it."You will fix these wounds, and then I shall see what else I have for you to do, slave".

He wasn't as hard as he appeared to be to his comrades, but he would still smack up his property should the tanned lad decide to disagree with his demands, it was only natural after all.The tough viking's skin was pale and creamy in contrast to his new pet's, It showed scars more easily, whip marks and slight burns here and there.

When he saw the wounds he had to wonder how the viking had suffered so long without them all going septic and killing him. As far as he could tell half of them were in the first stages of infection and the rest were getting to that point. Kafele tried to think about what kind of weapons they possessed that could have done that, but none came to mind.

"Get these in a different raid?" he asked, seeing now that the man wasn't going to rip his tongue out if he was talkative.

Searching around he found more distilled alcohol. Using a thin knife, that he heated up first, he began to cut the infection out of the wounds. He quickly cleaned all the grit out of them and then started stitching them shut. His deft, tan hands closing the wounds neatly as though he were sewing something as innocuous as fine cloth.

He needed to find a way out of here. Maybe when they next docked he could escape.

"You could say that" he remarked simply, resting his chin on his folded arms.The proud viking was silent and without a twitch as the hot blade carved the festering bits of flesh off, It hurt of course, but It paled in comparison to that arrow, and of course he'd not let mere gashes debase his manliness."We do what we must to survive...our homeland is rather baron of any resources, so we must forage and pillage in order to make due, It's simply our way of life, and nothing personal".Smirking quietly he continued "Besides, you have nothing to lose and everything to gain under my wardship, I happen to be the most merciful man upon this ship...you'd do wise to remember your luck" he stated in a warning tone.It was true he was the most merciful, if not only for the fact he was lonely even amongst his own kind, having a slave was the closest thing to having a companion he actually had.

Obviously Egyptians and Vikings had very differing ideas of mercy. He prayed to Thoth, the ibis-headed god, for the wisdom to find a way out of this mess. He tied off the last piece of thread and three the bloodied needle away. He bandaged the stitches to guard against another bout of infection.

He perched himself on one of the barrels. He wanted to say something about how it still wasn't right for them to run amok and burn everything like dirty pirates, but he knew that would earn him less than enthusiastic responses.

"You should count your blessings as well," he replied. "That arrow would have maimed you, at best. You seem like a sturdy warrior, but I've seen stronger die from nothing more than a thorn in their hand."

He left his shirt off, turning to face the Egyptian before he sat down in his chair."Men killed by thorns are deserved of such a pitiful death" he remarked simply, grabbing the bottle of ale off his desk and taking a deep swill."And you'd best not doubt my capabilities to survive...It's what I do best" he grumbled.He took another deep swill of the ale and set the bottle down."You may sleep on the floor, I might spare you a blanket or two" he stated simply, folding one leg over the other."The rest of the ship will be going to bed soon, and I don't suggest you go wandering outside this room, there are those that'll cut your toes off and make you eat them for that".

"As long as they keep my fingers intact," he remarked. He didn't need his toes so much as he needed his hands. They were his livelihood.

The news that he had to sleep on the floor made the young Egyptian flinch. He looked at the knotty wood and knew that this was going to be an unpleasant experience. The way the ship pitched and rolled meant he would probably do the same. His lack of sealegs didn't make it any better.

"I'd rather just sleep on these barrels." He didn't want to be on the ground where rats might nibble at him.

The viking gave a grin."Your fingers prove useful to me, I'd much rather leave them be" he stated before standing up."I'll be right back" he stated, shutting the door behind him as he strode out, blocking it off with a barrel, more to keep others out than him in.His leg had a slight limp to it as he strode to into rather small dining area aboard the ship, fetching a large bowl of beef barley soup before he strode back to his room, ignoring the glares and snarky remarks from his comrades.

Shoving the barrel aside he slid into the room and sat down with a grunt, setting the bowl of soup down atop one of the barrels."Eat your fill, you'll need all the strength your bones can get, besides I can't guarantee you'll be fed regularly either".He undid the chord holding his pants up and let them drop, exposing himself.His toned legs came into view, as pale as the rest of him, defined by thick chorded muscles.His member was nestled between his legs amongst a thick, rather soft looking mound of pubic hair.It hung low and drooped, at least seven inches long and still soft.Stretching he sat on the bed and took another swill of his ale to relax, seemingly fine with his nudity around his slave.

He looked at the barrel and got up when the wiking left, testing its weight. He wouldn't be able to move it aside himself. Kafele jumped back into his previous spot when his new "master" showed up with soup that made his mouth water. He was just beginning to remember that he hadn't eaten that day. It felt like it had been so long since his capture. If he hadn't been so stubborn about saving his family's possessions...

"I can see this is going to be a nice pleasure cruise." He gratefully took the bowl and began to eat, though he slowed when the barbarian began to disrobe.

Nudity alone didn't immensely bother him. When you lived in a land as hot as Egypt you wore as little clothing as was permissible, which sometimes meant none at all when indoors with family. But this man was not family and his length instilled a burning jealousy in him as he adjuted his tunic and angled himself so he couldn't see so well.

"Doesn't it get cold here?" He gagged and pulled a long, blonde hair out of his mouth.

The viking chuckled a tad as the slave removed a hair from his mouth."I'll try and remind the cook to trim his beard" he remarked with a laugh.It was a while before he responded to the remark of it getting cold."Yes It...gets rather cold in these cabins, but then again I have about five woolen blankets, and a human heater If it gets too cold" he stated simple, sitting back against the headboard.The bed was actually large enough to fit the both of him, of course only if he got cold enough or decided to show mercy and even allow the slave into his bed.Even still the thought of the young lad in his bed wasn't all to displeasing, viking's we're notoriously Bi-sexual in nature.Rather, making love to a fellow man meant you were making love to an equal, rather than a woman who was in his eyes, inferior.

It was easy for Egyptian women to gain high status in his society. Often times Kafele felt like it wasn't warranted, but who was he to judge? He was still young and had a bit of time to enjoy himself until he needed a ball and chain to appear proper.

"A human heater?"

He raised an eyebrow as he heard the term and nervously huddled onto the barrels, shoving the hair laden soup aside. He wasn't taking the viking's advice to heart. He wasn't starving enough yet to end up with more hair than meat in his belly.

"I haven't learned the name of my new 'master' yet." Honestly he hoped he would find out soon because he couldn't tell the vikings apart. They all looked like blonde, hulking behemoths ready to bash his head in.

"Truthfully you needn't know my name, but for your safeties sake...my name is Aesir" he remarked with a proud tone.Standing up he strode over to Kafele and leaned down, prodding his finger against his chest."If ANY of the men aboard this ship pester you, simply remind them of who it is that you belong to" he stated with a glare."I will NOT have your head bashed in on account of your own curiosity" he finished.He came off a tad harsh but only ever meant to be protective, even if Kafele was his slave, he was the vikings only companion that actually wasn't a slavering lunatic wanting to bash a skull or two in.Huffing he stood back up and folded his arms, standing a hulking tower of maleness before Kafele as his toned softened."Now, If you get too cold, you may crawl into my bed, but do not expect to do so without sharing your body heat" he reminded.

Kafele balked at the Viking for two reasons. One, the threat in that deep, guttural Scandenavian was imposing and two, his privates were right in his face. He could actually smell the musk coming from his pubes, but feared that if he moved he might send the wrong signals. He didn't think he would ever want to take Aesir up on his offer, surely he could spend one night on the barrels.

"T-thank you...for the warning," he remarked finally, eventually able to tear his eyes from the man's crotch area. "You won't have to worry about me talking to strange Vikings." That's how he got into this mess in the first place.

The ships was now well into open water and had begun to rock heavily from the tall waves. The barrels proved themselves to be less that stationary and it wasn't long before Kafele was pitched onto the floor, landing on something furry that squeaked, bit him, and scurried off. He sat there for a moment worrying about disease before ambling over to the bed meekly.

Aesir's chest rose and fell softly as he laid there, snugly under the covers of his bed.Groaning he sat up and gazed down, rubbing his eyes."So..I take it you want in?" he stated with smirk."I could have told you the barrels pitch and roll but, I doubt you would have listened either way".Quietly he hoisted the covers up and patted the spot next to him.He was naked under the covers, the scent of his musk washing out over the room, faintly sweet with a dank headiness to it.Along with the musk came a rolling wave of warmth as well however, much nicer than the chilly cabin itself.

Kafele glanced down at the warm, empty spot and made a quick prayer to every god he knew to forgive his weakness as he slipped under the covers. He felt his bare back toughing Aesir's chest and the wiry hairs made him flinch. He was virtually hairless when compared to the Viking, but it was hot where he lived and hair just made things worse.

He'd only been away from house for a day, maybe less, and he could already feel the prickles of hair beginning to grow on his scalp and chin. He hoped they would allow him to keep shaving, but from the appearance of the crew he doubted there was one razor amongst the lot of them. He started to relax a bit, it really wasn't so bad and just like before he was just doing what it took to survive. And that's when he felt something poking his lower back. It was going to be a long night.

Aesir lowered the blanket once more and draped his arm around Kafele, the soft hairs of it brushing the young lads skin as he tugged him back close to his muscular form.His head rested on the pillow with a quiet yawn.His member prodded and throbbed softly against Kafele's warm skin, but Aesir certainly didn't seem bothered by it.The bed was warm, but not overly so, It was a comfortable heat that would permeate ones body without causing a profuse sweat, which would undoubtedly freeze one to the core when they stepped out of the bed.

Aesir's hot breath washed gently down Kafele's shoulders and neck as he rested.It didn't take long for the worn out viking to drift back to sleep, grumbling in his dreams and flexing softly, gently pressing his member against Kafele every now and then."Mm, stupid woman" he mumbled "leave me for another" he continued before simply becoming resigned to light breathing and stillness.

The first half hour or so Kafele laid in a state of stiff fear as he felt the nude man gyrating against him. Eventually the heavy scent of warrior-man was once again replaced by the smell of brine and he was able to relax and forget about the shamefully large member rubbing against his lower back.

He dozed off once or twice. The tightening feeling in his stomach that was the realization he was now a slave kept him from getting anymore rest. However he did notice, with a small seed of shame, that the warm wisps of breath on the back of his neck made him shiver pleasantly. He instinctively retreated from the chilly Atlantic ocean air to the fuzzy chest of Aesir and the implications became an afterthought.

He heard the man murmur something in his sleep and shift against him before continuing to lightly snore. Kafele sighed and fell asleep.

The ship's rocking had slowed as morning had come, the longboat just a gentle sway now as the wood creaked, though it was still as cold as ice in the room.Aesir was still heavily asleep with his arms wrapped around Kafele, a warm smile on his face.In the night his gyrations had made him shift, and even then his thick member was nestled between his slave's warm butt cheeks, nestled between and throbbing gently, It seemed he had a serious case of morning wood.The other vikings had slept in as well, It was always custom after the raid to take a day off after making good the escape.

Kafele was generally a light sleeper. But in order to get any sleep on the noisy, creaking boat he had to tune out everything, even something as alarming as ending up in the arms of one of his captors. He did however move worrisomely when he felt the length of viking meat up his tunic and dangerously close to a place it should not be.

But he was learning quickly, perhaps dangerously, that warm equaled good things and so he happily squirmed his way up against Aesir. Close enough that he could feel his hairy balls on his smooth bottocks and his own prick in a state of stiffness.