TITLE: THE BARTER 2: SECRETS KEPT
AUTHOR: PEJA
FANDOM: The Sentinel
RATING: R
PAIRING: Preslash
SUMMARY: Blair encounters some questions he'd rather not answer
WARNING: This one ends bad for the little thief. (Not in death...)
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a definite AU, set in Regency England. If you haven't read "The Barter" you might want to go to my site and check it out first.
FEEDBACK: Only if you want to see where this is going. If you have some ideas, tell me how you'd like to see it go.
EMAIL: daltonavon@yahoo.com
ARCHIVE: The WWOMB. Others can archive provided they let me know, archive the entire series (which can be picked up at my site on the WWOMB) and keep ALL headers intact.
URL: https://www.squidge.org/~peja/
AUTHORS NOTE: you can find more Virgin Blair fic at JungleJimVirginBlair-subscribe@yahoogroups.com
By PEJA
Blair's jaunty step faltered just inside the smoky alehouse as all eyes turned toward him. He frowned against the wall of silence that descended suddenly, but resolved to enter the thieves den one way or another.
"Hi-ho, Blair," a reassuring voice sounded above the oppressive silence.
Blair's narrowed glance searched out the owner of that voice, sighting his cousin, Robert waving him over with his free hand. The other hand was filled with a voluptuous serving wench, or at least one plump breast of that giggling wench.
Forcing a wide grin, Blair pushed and shoved his way through the rowdy patrons. His first step created a ripple of sound that swelled with each step that carried him to his cousin's table. By the time he reached that safe haven, the din had reached full volume.
"How fair you, cousin?" Robert asked, up-ending a mate out of the chair next to him.
Snagging the arm of a passing wench, Blair plunged his own hand down a heaving bosom. "Fair and well, cousin," he returned over the squeals of the woman in his lap.
"Be off with you, woman." Robert shoved the girl off his lap and turned the patented "Sandburg" grin on Blair. "Heard ye had a run in with his Lordship this morning."
"Aye," Blair agreed, nodding. "I'm feeling an awful thirst, lass." He released the girl in his arms, earning himself tiny pout. A pout he never saw, staring off into his own head. "Don't know how could have made such a weak minded blunder."
Robert's head dipped in a slight nod. "You're supposed to know all the faces of potential trouble makers, adam. You got careless. Got nabbed."
"I know. I know," Sighing tiredly, Blair sprawled back on two legs of his chair. "Just can't believe I got so stupid. I honestly didn't recognize His Lordship and tried to clip his wad."
"Bad spot of luck, catching the eyes of that one for sure." Robert leaned forward over the table, capturing Blair's shifting gaze. "Adam, mine?"
Blair's face heated and he ducked his head, hiding behind the cascade of curls. "Gawd, Cous, Don't ask?"
"I'm fearing I must, Little Cousin." Robert's voice compelled Blair to lift his head. "The men here, they're wanting to know why you're not rotten your heels in goal."
Blair glanced around him, seeing once more the suspicious stared, The hard accusations. "I would nay betray the den, Robert," he vowed breathlessly.
"I want to believe that, Blair," Robert assured him. "But I need more than our family ties. I need to know the truth."
Flushing a deeper shade, Blair nodded. "He..." Blair threw him a pleading, desperate glance. :Cous, I..."
Robert held up a silencing hand. "Tell me, Blair?"
Blair hung his head, hiding behind his curls. "I thought for sure he was going to call out the guard. He was so bloody furious. I remember thinking Naomi's going to kill me for this escapade. I must have said it aloud, though, because he heard. He got all still for a minute and then he said he'd let me go if I gave him...:" His lips moved, but the words dwindled away to a mere whisper.
"I didn't hear that, Blair." Robert said, tipping his cousin's chin up to meet his eyes. "Tell me so I can hear."
The color washed out of Blair's face and his gaze skittered around the room, bouncing off one attentive face after another. Swallowing hard, he spat out the words in one rush. "Ah, damnation, Robert, he claimed a kiss in trade for my freedom."
Robert reeled back in his chair. "A..."
"A kiss," Blair hissed. "A kiss, okay? He made me kiss him."
Robert managed to close his gaping mouth and form words. "A kiss? You mean a buss on the forehead?"
Eyes sparkling with helpless pleading, Blair shook his head.
"On the cheek, then. He had you kiss him on the cheek?"
Blair's head fell.
"On the lips?" Robert boomed. "He forced you to kiss his lips?"
"Tell the whole bleeding world then." A tear of shame splattered on the table's wooden surface.
"Well, buck up, boy-o A simple close mouthed kiss....."
Blair made a choking sound.
"It was a closed mouth kiss, wasn't it?" Robert's voce was filled with disbelief. "Surely even the devil lord would na' have the balls to demand...."
"He put his tongue full in my mouth, Robert." Blair rasped. "The kind of kiss a man gives his woman. A lover's kiss, it was. He...." Another tear joined the first. "I can still taste him in my mouth. After all day trying to find something to clear him out, I can still taste him on my lips.
Robert stared at the younger man, too stunned to speak for a full minute. Finally, he slid his mug of ale over to him, curling Blair's hand around the tepid brew. "Drink up, lad. You need it more than I do."
Blair shook his head. "It won't take his taste away. Nothing will ever take that away. He branded me with it."
"I don't chew fat twice, boy-o. Drink or the boys will help ya get it down."
Blair lifted haunted eyes to his cousin. "I should have let them lock me up in the tower. But it seemed like such a little thing. How was I supposed to know that bastard was gonna...gonna..." Blair shuddered and this time he gulped the drink without taking a breath.
"Its the fire in your curls, cous," Robert teased gently, plucking a strand of the wild red-brown silk and watching it curl around his finger. Tongue-in-cheek, he lifted his gaze from the cuddling curl and smiled. "So you say this wasn't a brotherly kiss. More a full tilt girlie one?"
Amused laughter broke over the tavern, adding fresh color to Blair's hollowed cheeks.
Blair glared back into his cousin's teasing gaze so much like his own. "Bugger off, Cous."
Robert's rich guff washed over him and he slapped Blair on the back. "You, dear cousin, are not the first man who can claim the dubious honor of sharing a kiss with the vile Black Lord Ellison." He sobered suddenly. "But I dare say you are the first one to walk away with your skin intact. He's a mean minded bastard, Cous. A man you might do well to steer clear of, if you catch my meaning.
Blair's head bobbed and he gulped down half of the mug that seemed to be ever-filled. "I know. I thought I was a dead man for sure when his nibs nabbed me, I did."
"Wonder what made him settle for that kiss that troubles you so much, adam o' mine."
"Naomi." Blair's head bobbed up and down. "It had to be Naomi. He went all soft and snake-eyed toward me when I mentioned her name.. Asked how I was connected with the lady abbess."
Robert's harsh glare stabbed into Blair. "And you told him?"
Blair blanched. "My tongue sort of unattached from my brain when he asked his questions. I couldn't have lied if my life depended on it. Couldn't have not answered, for that matter. He's a devil that one. A devil, for sure."
Robert leaned low over the table, closing the distance between them. "Blair, boy-o, tuck tail and get your arse back to the Brothel. Warn the lady abbess you've fallen under the Black Lord's evil eye. If anyone can protect you, she can. And I'm not holding out much hope that even she has the clout to pull your ass out this time, little cous"
"What's this all about, anyway?" Blair asked, paling even more than before. "What are you hiding me from, adam?"
Robert shook his heed. "Its not mine to tell, cous. Just get yourself to your ma and keep low in the getting."
"But..."
Robert shoved Blair to his feet and in the direction of the door. "Go, boy. Go now. And Godspeed you on your way"
Blair threw his cousin one last questioning glance then, fueled by what he saw in Robert's haunted eyes, spun on his heels and raced from the tavern.
His fleet pace carried him down the back alley and across three streets before a sharp blow behind his ear brought him to his knees. A burlap bag scratched over his head. Grain dust clogged his air and kernels pelted his head, sprinkling sharp points in his russet curls.
Coughing against the dust, he drew a sharp breath and cried out. A second blow whistled through the midnight air and terrifyingly familiar voice warned, "Don't kill him," just before the blow brought complete darkness to his world.
END CHAPTER 2