For the next fifteen miles, the attacks were random, usually only one or two beasts at a time.  Still they had lost six soldiers and one merchant to the attacks.  Then, however, they were attacked by over twenty beasts concerted in their attack.  Although the knights, after five were killed in the surprise attack, gave as good as they got, all were killed, leaving five animals to attack the caravan.  People, fleeing in panic, were cut down by the dragons.  Over twenty civilians had been killed when the last two beasts attacked the group of soldiers who were gathered around Kyle and Robley.  One came straight for Kyle.  A moment before it struck, a soldier, with a spear in his hands, stepped between the beast and Kyle.  The dragon, as its body was pierced with spears, closed its mouth on the soldier's head, ripping it from his body.  As the beast died, the head slipped from its mouth, rolling on the ground, stopping when it struck Kyle's feet.

The soldier, performing his duty, had given his life for Kyle.  If he hadn't stepped forward when he had, it would have been Kyle's head that had rolled from the beast's mouth.  Kyle was numb.  Although he'd seen the beast coming toward him, he had been paralyzed by fear.  He knew he'd made the wrong choice.  As a soldier, he would be expected to place himself between civilians and the beasts.  Instead, if he could have willed his legs to work, he would have run.  He was certain that, put in the soldier's place, he would have.

Robley, too, was frightened.  He had soiled, then lost his loin cloth during the battle.  Shit was smeared on his naked buttocks and legs-not that anyone noticed.  Most were covered with gore from the battle.  Working in the kitchen, by comparison, suddenly seemed easy and pleasant, even though, before Kyle, he had been made to work from 5:00 AM until 9:00 PM.  The cook, when compared to the ferociousness of the beasts, seemed a kindly father.  Robley wished he were back within the safety of the walls of Nagle, no matter what work he might be given.  Slaves accompanying the soldiers had fallen to the beasts along with their masters.

Since they were soon met by the army from Rageed, the caravan suffered no more casualties.  The loss of the knights had been disastrous, however.  Knights, not being common soldiers, were nobles of property and had all their genitals.  Twenty first sons would become the lords of their households that night.  It was the greatest loss of knights in a battle that anyone could remember.  It was as if the dragons had singled them out.  The loss of the horses was almost as damaging as losing the knights.  Horses did not propagate well on Thale.

When the caravan arrived at the capitol, the boys were directed to the army barracks.  Kyle was shown to his quarters, a small room with a bed, chair and small table.  Although noble born, until he rose in rank, Kyle would live a Spartan life.  Robley was taken to the slave quarters.

After bathing, Kyle ate in a large dining hall with other soldiers.  Although he was only a second son, he was the son of the Lord of Nagle.  Although, when younger, he had been disparaged by his older brother, all others had been deferential to him.  Now that he was in the Army, that he was the son of a lord, meant nothing.  He was a recruit-other than slaves, the lowest of the low.  The soldiers in the mess hall, reminded him of that, through both words and actions.  Distraught, Kyle went to the slave quarters to find his only friend-his lover, planning to bring him back to his room, to seek comfort in his arms.  With Robley's cock inside him, he could, for a moment, forget that he was a soldier.

Upon finding the slave quarters, he questioned a slave he found there.  "I'm seeking my slave, Robley.  Do you know where I can find him?"

Bowing his head, the slave answered, "I'm sorry, my lord, I don't believe I know the name.  What does he look like?"

"He's a boy, about my age, although taller.  We just arrived today."

"Had your slave been neutered?"

"No, of course not."

"Then, he's being prepared."

"Prepared, what do you mean, prepared?" Kyle asked, becoming worried.

"He's to be neutered, of course."

"But, I don't want him neutered."  Kyle, panic stricken, hoped he wasn't too late.  The whole purpose of becoming a soldier had been to keep his balls, knowing that Robley's cock could bring him to a climax.  "Where have they taken him?"

The slave led the way, winding through passages, until they came to an open doorway.  Inside were two soldiers, between whom Robley was struggling, and a slave who was heating a knife on a bed of charcoal.  Fumes filled the small room, stinging Kyle's eyes.  A wooden table, encrusted with dried blood, was next to the far wall.  Straps were fastened to the table.  "No," screamed Kyle, "I don't want him neutered."

Having thrown Robley to the table, the guards had no time for Kyle.  Although they had paused when he had shouted, having seen that he was just a boy, they proceeded strapping Robley to the table.  "Please, don't.  He's my slave.  I don't want him neutered."

"You're a recruit, aren't you?" one asked.

"Yes," answered Kyle.

"Then, just as you, your slave belongs to the army.  All army slaves are neutered."

Stepping forward, attempting to pull Robley away from the guards, Kyle tried to stop them, but one, with a back handed blow, knocked him against the wall.  He was a small boy; they were grown men; there was nothing he could do-except watch.

Until he had reached the room, Robley hadn't known what was in store for him.  Being a slave, his consent wasn't required, and had he known sooner, he would have begun struggling earlier.  When he had heard Kyle, he had begun pleading, "Stop them, please.  Don't let them take my balls."  Just as Kyle couldn't prevent his beating by the cook, neither could he prevent what happened next.

After the soldiers had strapped him to the table, the slave pulled the knife from the coals.  It glowed dully.  Robley watched in horror as, reaching over, the slave grasped the bottom of his scrotum, pulling it down.  With the hot knife in the other hand, he sliced off the bottom of Robley's ball sack.  Not even given a stick to bite between his teeth, Robley screamed.  His balls lay exposed beneath the remaining fringe of his scrotum.  They were next.

The slave took his time.  He was in no hurry.  Years before, the same thing had been done to him, but he had no pity for the boy on the table.  He was doing his job; he was good at it; most of the slaves he castrated lived; the hot knife cauterized the wound reducing both the loss of blood and the possibility of infection.  He no longer missed his balls.  In time, neither would this boy.

One of Robley's balls hung lower than the other, so the slave grabbed it first, pulling on it, stretching the cords, then applied the knife slowly to the cords, allowing it to slowly burn through them, searing the end of the blood vessels shut.  When the boy's ball came loose in his hand, he carelessly tossed it aside.  It was of no use to anyone, not even to Robley.  Subjected to the same procedure, Robley's other nut soon joined its twin on the floor.  In but a few minutes, Robley had become a eunuch.  Forlorn on the floor, his balls would produce no more sperm.  Robley would never father a child, which was probably just as well, since that child would have also been a slave, subject to the will of his master.

As a slave, Robley had often been beaten, but nothing had hurt so much as losing his balls.  Feeling the pain deep within his abdomen, he had puked onto his chest; but, his ordeal wasn't over.  The slave placed the knife back into the coals.  While it heated, he examined Robley's cock.  "A nice cock," he said, grinning at the guards.

"Oh, that's not much.  You should have seen mine," answered one of the guards.

"I don't want to hear, again, about the big cock you used to have," said the other guard.  "It doesn't do you much good, now, does it?"  To the slave, he said, "Get on with it."

Kyle watched as the slave, holding Robley's cock, which had been up his ass so many times, pulled it straight out from his body, then cut it off with the hot knife.  It, too, was thrown onto the floor.  Having sacrificed everything for that cock, Kyle followed its flight with his eyes, watching as it bounced off the wall onto the floor.  He had become a soldier for that cock.  Now, even if he retrieved it, no longer attached to Robley, it would do him no good.

With the quill of a feather, the slave opened Robley's urethra.  Unlike Kyle, he wouldn't have a tube of gold to keep his open, but would have keep the quill of a feather inserted in his to keep it from growing shut.  A grease made from dragon's bodies was spread over the wound.  Although the slave didn't know why it worked, its application usually prevented infection.  Actually, it worked because bacteria, inimical to humans couldn't grow in the alien substance.

Helplessly, Kyle sat on the floor as they carried Robley out of the room.  It would be two weeks before he saw him again.  During that time, Kyle had little opportunity to think about Robley.  He spent long hours training with weapons he could barely lift while being physically and verbally abused by his sergeant and other soldiers.  He was the smallest and weakest of all the new recruits.  Exhausted when he returned to his room, he usually fell asleep right away.  One day, after a grueling session,  when he returned to his room, Robley was there.

Dropping his loin cloth as Kyle entered, Robley said, "Look what they did to me.  Why didn't you stop them?" 

Robley's groin was similar to Kyle's, except the wound, from which his cock had sprouted, being fresher, was still an angry red.  The quill of a feather protruded from it.  Kyle's balls hung below his golden tube.  Below Robley's feather there was only a fringe of shrunken skin where his scrotum and his balls had been.

"I tried to stop them.  You saw me.  I tried to stop them.  I couldn't do anything."

"But, you're a noble.  You own me.  You could have stopped them, if you had really wanted.  You were jealous of me because I had a cock and you didn't.  You had them take mine-but, you weren't happy with that.  You had them take my balls as well."

"Think about what you're saying, Robley.  You know what you're saying is wrong.  I kept my balls because of your cock.  I loved having your cock up my ass.  I haven't come since that last night in Nagle."

"You haven't come?  I can never come again."  Sitting down on Kyle's bed, he began crying.

What a disaster Kyle's choice had been.  If he had chosen to have his balls taken, instead, he and Robley would be at the university, rather than in the Army.  Without balls, he might not be able to come, but Robley would still have his cock.  Even without coming, it would have felt good to have it up his ass.