Children of Earth - The Soldier

Thale

When the starship, San Antonio, had arrived at Thale, which was almost 150 light years from Earth, they had thought they had found an ideal planet to colonize.  Smaller, but of an almost identical mass as Earth, it was the second planet from a sun which was slightly hotter than Sol.  Orbiting at a greater distance than earth from its sun, Thale was warmer than Earth.  Uninhabitable deserts girdled the single continent at the equator, but temperate areas, covered in vegetation, could be seen to the north and south of the deserts.  The poles and highest mountains were covered with ice and snow.

The San Antonio hadn't arrived at Thale by chance.  Space telescopes located in the far reaches of Earth's solar system had inferred its presence and had determined that it had an oxygen atmosphere.

Thale's ecosystem lacked Earth's diversity.  On land there was but one dominate species of vegetation and one dominate species of animal.  They had a symbiotic relationship.  The animal ate the fruit produced by the large tree like plant which, often having a diameter of forty-five feet, resembled a Baobab tree back on Earth, except that, instead of leaves, its branches appeared to be covered with moss.  The trees, which sprang from seeds deposited in the excrement of the animal, covered Thale, crowding out all other vegetation, except where the soil was too thin to support the tree's massive roots. There, grew a type of grass and small bushes with fernlike leaves.

The animal, which the early colonists called dragons, actually more closely resembled velociraptors, both in size and ferocity, except that they had six legs and a short blunt tail.  At the end of a long neck was a small head.  Its mouth was filled with sharp, shark like, teeth.  The rear set of legs were powerful and shorter than the middle set.  Only the rear four legs were used for locomotion.  The front two were short, clawed, and could be used for grasping or clawing a prey.  The heavier, powerful, haunches of the animal counter balanced the long neck and enabled it to leap over twenty feet.  They had become the only large species on Thale by driving all other large animals to extinction, attacking them, not for food, but because they could not abide their existence.  The only other animals remaining on Thale were small burrowing animals which could escape the notice of the dragons.

Neither would the dragons abide the presence of man on their planet.  Despite the weapons they had brought from Earth, many of the original colonists had been killed before they had built a large compound with walls high enough to keep out the animals.  Had they not the weapons and machines brought from Earth, the colonists wouldn't have lasted the first day, so viscous and relentless had been the attacks.

Although humans could eat nothing that grew on the planet, including the fruit of the tree, the tree's substance, when dried, was dense and hard, forming an excellent building material, which they called ironwood.  They named the tree after its Earthly twin, the Baobab.  The tree also stored, at its center, a reservoir of water, often amounting to as much as 30,000 gallons, which, given the arid conditions of Thale, was vital to the survival of the early colonists.

Using terraforming equipment, they had cleared swaths of land of the trees and of all other native vegetation; then, after conditioning the soil, had planted seeds brought from Earth.  Behind forty foot high walls of ironwood, they had built their homes and raised their first crops, maintaining a constant vigilance against the dragons, who, although they couldn't jump over the walls, could burrow under them.

The best fighters had guarded against incursion by the dragons, the wisest had directed the activities of the colony, and the rest had labored incessantly: building; clearing land; planting and tending crops.  Over years, these differences in responsibility, had solidified.  The directors and fighters had become nobles; the workers had become serfs.  The weapons and machines brought from Earth had eventually failed-the knowledge of how to repair them or to make new ones having been forgotten.  Society had devolved into that of Medieval Earth.  Weapons used against the dragons-and against other men-were swords and spears and bows and arrows.  Knights, wearing armor, rode horses, descendents of those brought from Earth, and carried lances.  All warriors, scholars, and priests descended from the noble class.  The serfs, who worked the land and labored at all menial tasks, were no better than slaves.  None was ever allowed to carry a weapon.

Second Son

Kyle was the second son of the Earl of Nagle, who ruled over the compound and city of Nagle; but Kyle was wishing that he'd been born the son of a serf.  Then, at least, he wouldn't be facing the choice he would have to make on his thirteenth birthday-whether to keep his penis or whether to keep his testicles.  He wouldn't get to keep both.  Although Kyle was only twelve, his older brother, who was sixteen, already had ten legitimate children, which included seven boys, by his five wives-no one bothered to count the bastards-therefore, there was no fear that he wouldn't produce an heir.  To prevent Kyle or his other brothers from contesting the right of the first son to inherit his father's estates, all fifteen of them would have to make this unpleasant choice at the age of consent, their thirteenth birthday, after which they would leave their home forever, traveling to the capitol city, Rageed, to become either, scholars, priests, or warriors.  Scholars and priests kept their penises.  Warriors-for strength-kept their testicles.

Although the boy's father, for political reasons, often made the choice for the boy, Kyle's father had left it to him.  Now, a week before his thirteen birthday, Kyle still hadn't decided.  He had no desire to be a priest; he was only a mediocre scholar; and, at 5'2", was small for his age, so he probably wouldn't have made a good soldier; besides, he was frightened by the idea of having to fight dragons.  All too often, he had watched from the city walls as groups of them had attacked travelers, of whom, despite being protected by soldiers, many had been killed.  Soldiers, too, had died, often decapitated by a quick lunge and the snap of powerful jaws full of sharp teeth.

Although, under other circumstances, Kyle would have never chosen to be a soldier, only soldiers kept their balls.  Kyle's dilemma was that he was in love-with a boy, a serf.  It had begun as was common between nobles and serfs.  Kyle had seen a beautiful serf boy who was no older than he and had wanted him.  Serfs served at the pleasure of their masters, even to satisfy their sexual desires.

At first, the serf boy, Robley, had been only one of many whom Kyle had used to satisfy his budding sexual desire.  Although he had fucked several girls, he had preferred boys, returning often to Robley, his favorite.  Lately, there had been only Robley.

There was no word for homosexuality. A noble had sex with whomever he pleased, whether male or female.  A lord might choose either a beautiful girl or a handsome lad to adorn his bed.  It only mattered that the noble was the one who fucked.  He was never submissive.  Any noble who submitted to a serf, would have likely, along with the serf, been driven out of the compound.  To be alone, outside the walls without protection of soldiers, was a death sentence.  For that reason, Kyle had, up until the night before, never let Robley fuck him, even though he had often wondered how it would feel to have Robley's seven inch cock up his ass.

As his birthday had approached-and with it the loss of either his cock or his balls-Kyle had spent his days and nights with Robley, fucking constantly, attempting to achieve every remaining climax.  The night before, after he had told Robley, for the first time, that he loved him, Kyle had said, "Fuck me, Robley.  I want you to fuck me."

Knowing the penalty for such an act, Robley had been frightened, but Kyle had ordered him to do it; and, Robley had long wanted to fuck Kyle.  Although he had spent almost a year being fucked by Kyle, his only release had come from either the pressure of Kyle's cock on his prostate, or from his own hand.  He had never had his cock inside anyone.  In that respect, he had still been a virgin.  Both had enjoyed the change.  That it was forbidden had added to the tension.  Although Robley also loved Kyle, to fuck a noble had somewhat ameliorated the injustice of being a slave. 

Robley wouldn't be thirteen for another three months, but he was four inches taller than Kyle and out weighed him by thirty pounds.  Other than his beauty, his size had been a reason Kyle had chosen him.  Long dominated by his older brother, he had wanted to dominate Robley-partly because he was bigger.  When he had come to love Robley, though, he had regressed to the submissive role he had assumed with his brother. 

Although he hated his older brother, Jason, because of his cruelty toward him, Kyle had really just wanted his love.  His father, always busy with governing Nagle and with political intrigue, never had time for any of his children.  Raising them had been left to servants.  For that reason, although his brother was cruel-in being cruel-he had paid attention to Kyle, who had transferred his filial sentiments to him.  In this respect, he was no different from any other child, who abused by his father, would have forgiven him for one moment of love.  When he had come to love Robley, he had transferred those feelings to him.  To be submissive-and to be loved-was more fulfilling than had been his dominate role in their relationship.  After being fucked by Robley, he no longer had any desire to be dominate.  Never again fucking Robley, he submitted to him each time, coming without touching his cock. 

Although, when in public, Kyle was the master and Robley, the slave, when alone, the roles were reversed.  Robley became the master.  He ordered Kyle about, physically punishing him when, to elicit punishment, Kyle refused.  Both, for their own reasons, were aroused by the change in their relationship.  Although Robley loved Kyle, being a slave, he hated all nobles.  For that reason, he gladly assumed his new role.  Striking Kyle seemed to be, in some small measure, a blow against all nobility.

On a day when Kyle was receiving instruction for the ceremony which would take place on his birthday, Robley had to report to his old job in the kitchen.  The cook, who, although a slave, was in charge, having resented the preferential Robley had received, beat him for a minor infraction, raising welts on Robley's back.  When, afterward, Robley went to Kyle's room, his shirt, which had been given to him by Kyle-and was partly the reason for his beating, since only favored slaves were ever given clothes other than loin cloths-was sticking to those wounds on his back which were bleeding.

Fuming over the injustice of receiving a beating for which he'd done little, Robley was angry.  There was no possibility of taking his anger out on the cook.  Since he was assigned to the kitchen, he reported to the cook, who could beat him anytime he wished.  Even Kyle couldn't protect him when he was at work there.  That would have been interference in the daily operation of the household which his father wouldn't have tolerated.  Kyle was the only person on who he could take revenge.  He felt that it was Kyle's fault he'd been beaten, not acknowledging, even to himself, that Kyle's attention had allowed him to avoid many hot hours of drudgery working in the kitchen.  Without knocking, he stormed into Kyle's room.

Laying on his couch, Kyle looked up in surprise.  Servants, even Robley, never entered his room without knocking.  Since Kyle had moved to a room of his own, no one, other than his older brother, had ever entered without knocking, and, since Jason had married two years before, he hadn't bothered Kyle.  Since Kyle was in turmoil, considering the choice he had to make, he crossly asked, "What do you mean, slave, coming into my room without knocking?"

Without answering, Robley walked to the couch-then struck Kyle across the face.  "Don't ever call me, slave.  In this room, I'm the master; don't you ever forget it."  Reaching over, he ripped off Kyle's shirt.  "Take off the rest of your clothes," he demanded.  Kyle meekly obeyed.

Picking up Kyle's riding quirt, Robley said.  "I was beaten today because of you.  Now, it's your turn."

A few weeks before, even as much as Kyle had liked Robley, he would have had him punished-if not killed-for such an offense.  During the past week, though, he had become thoroughly subjugated to Robley.  He was Kyle's master-as long as they were in Kyle's room-and not only in bed.  "On your stomach," he said.

When Kyle had rolled over onto his stomach, Robley began striking him with the quirt, primarily on his buttocks, but occasionally on his back and legs.  Swinging the quirt briskly, he struck Kyle hard enough to sting and redden his skin, but not hard enough to leave lasting marks.  Even through his anger-and his rising passion-he knew better than to leave marks which might be questioned by others.  Striking a noble was punishable by the worst kind of deaths.

Kyle was crying, begging Robley to stop, but he, too, was aroused.  After a moment, Robley's throbbing cock, demanding attention, won out over his anger and the thrill he felt from beating Kyle; besides, he couldn't strike him as hard as both of them wished.  Dropping both the quirt and his loin cloth, he rolled Kyle over onto his back and thrust his cock into Kyle's ass, ramming it into his ass until they both came.  It was the best sex that either had experienced and, without their knowing it at the time, had redefined all future sex between the two boys.  From that encounter, each time, before fucking Kyle, Robley would punish him by whipping him-or hurting him in some humiliating manner.  Humiliation was as important as the pain.  At times, grabbing his balls and squeezing them until tears came to Kyle's eyes, he would say, "They're going to cut these off soon.  Then, you won't be able to come."

After one such time, which was becoming as frequent as the whippings, Kyle answered, "I don't have to have my balls cut off.  I could have my cock cut off instead."

"Then you'd have to become a soldier," Robley said, laughing.  "I can't even imagine you as a soldier."  I would make a good soldier," he said, puffing out his chest, "but, not you."

Kyle knew he wouldn't make a good soldier; he was neither strong or brave-but he knew, that, without balls, he wouldn't be able to come.  Coming with Robley's cock in his ass had become the most important aspect of his young life.  It had transported him outside himself.  He couldn't imagine life being worthwhile without it.

Robley wanted Kyle to be castrated.  Without the ability to come-and without the testosterone produced by his balls-he would likely become more subservient to Robley-less the master and more the slave.  Masters often castrated slave boys whom they used as sex toys.  If Kyle were castrated, he would be his sex toy.  Kyle's cock was no longer important.  Robley no longer touched it and had no desire to have it up his ass.  Although the sex of his partner made as little difference to Robley as it did to anyone else, he preferred the dominate role.  Kyle was allowed to take a servant with him when he left for Rageed.  His request for Robley having been granted, Robley knew he would be staying with Kyle; and life in a university or monastery would be preferable to that of a servant to a soldier.  Servants, acting as weapon bearers, were frequently killed in battles along with their masters.

The night before Kyle's birthday, he and Robley were together in his bed.  Reaching over, Robley grabbed his balls, squeezing until Kyle cried out.  "I could do it for you," he said, picking up Kyle's knife which was laying on top his clothes piled beside the bed.  "I could cut off your balls tonight."

Although the prospect of having his lover-his master-cut off his balls strangely aroused him, Kyle's castration must be done during a ceremony, on his thirteenth birthday-by a priest.  "You can't.  A priest has to do it."

"You sure?" Robley asked, pricking Kyle's scrotum with the knife so that a drop of blood appeared.

Aroused, his cock throbbing, Kyle, not thinking of how much it would have hurt, wanted to say, "Yes, cut them off," but, instead, said, "We can't.  The priest has to do it.  Fuck me.  Hurry, I want you to fuck me."

"If you want me to fuck you, beg me."

"Please, Robley, fuck me, now.  I want to feel your cock inside me."

"Say, please, Master.  Please fuck me."

"Please, Master.  Fuck me, please."

As hot as Kyle-unable to delay longer-Robley rammed his cock into Kyle's ass, fantasizing about cutting off his balls.  Almost immediately, they came.  As they drifted off to sleep, Robley said, "I wished they'd let me cut off your balls. 

Exhausted, Kyle answered, "Me, too," then fell asleep despite his fears for the morrow.

Servants, come to prepare Kyle for the ceremony, woke them early.  Since they were in the room, dressing Kyle, Robley hadn't been able to ask him what he had decided, but was certain that the decision would be either to be a member of the clergy or to be a scholar.  Either, wouldn't matter to Robley.  Life as Kyle's personal servant would be better than that of a kitchen slave-especially, since whenever they were alone, it would be Robley who would be the master.

Kyle was escorted into the chamber where he would be forever altered; the cutting room or the gelding room, it was derisively called.  Quaking from fear, he walked unsteadily through the door.  Inside waited his father, his older brother, and all his younger brothers, the head priest and his two helpers, who would assist the priest with the cutting.

The second son, Kyle would be the first of his brothers to be cut.  The next would have his turn two years hence.  They would be witness to his castration; they would also be witness to his courage-or his lack of courage.  Kyle wanted to appear brave.  In his mind, he could hear his older brother's laughter, his derision at Kyle's tears-at Kyle's fear.  Although he cared what his father thought, his other brothers were of little consequence to him.  His mother had died after bearing him.  All the others had been raised by their respective mothers, separately from him.  Many of them, he hardly knew.  After today, he wouldn't see them again until they were cut and sent to join him at Rageed.

He was led to the priest, who was standing in front of a stone table.  Leather straps were attached to rings embedded into the stone.  Knives were laying on a table beside it, and irons glowed in a bed of charcoal.  "Your father says that he has left the choice to you.  What have you decided?" asked the priest.

Up to that point, Kyle hadn't made up his mind.  He didn't want to be a soldier, but, even more, he didn't want to lose his ability to come.  "My cock," he said.

Observing the short, slender boy, who was obviously unfitted to be a soldier, the priest, thinking that he was saying that he wished to keep his cock, asked, "Which will you become, a priest or a scholar?"

"No," answered Kyle, "I want you to take my cock.  I'll become a soldier."

Hearing laughter behind him quickly cut off by a curt command, Kyle didn't dare turn his head, but had recognized Jason's laughter and his father's command.

"You want to become a soldier?" asked the priest, glancing at Kyle's father.

Instead, Kyle answered, "I want to keep my balls."

Receiving an affirmative nod from Kyle's father, the priest said, "So be it."

Kyle was stripped, then laid on his back on the cold stone.  The helpers, on either side of the table strapped his arms and legs to the table, spreading apart his legs so that his cock and balls hung down between them.  He was too frightened to be aroused, although he had heard stories of boys ejaculating as their balls were cut off.

No drugs were given to dull the pain.  The ritual was also a test of courage.  He was given a piece of wood covered with leather, which was strapped into place with straps tied behind his head, to bite between his teeth-nothing more.

Although he hadn't been aroused, when one of the helpers took hold of his cock to insert the rigid hollow tube through which he would pee while his wound closed, it became hard.  Since the tube would have to be inserted several inches beyond his cock into his body, it couldn't be inserted while his cock was hard.  Having encountered similar situations and knowing the remedy, the helper began masturbating Kyle, knowing that once he had climaxed, his cock would soften.

Knowing that his father and brothers were watching, Kyle was embarrassed, but, knowing that it was the last spunk he would ever shoot through his cock, he was also aroused.  He wanted this climax.  He grunted through the stick which was in his mouth as the ropes of come spurted from his cock for the last time, feeling his cock throb as it did.  Even when he had come without touching his cock when Robley had fucked him, most of the feeling of his climax had been in his cock.  He wondered how a climax would feel when he had no cock. When his tumescence had subsided, the helper inserted the hollow tube into his urethra, several inches into his body.  Then the priest began.

First he cut through the loose skin around Kyle's cock-about a half inch above the base.  Kyle bit down on the stick; tears poured from his eyes, and, although he whimpered, he didn't cry out-not then.

With the sharp knife, the priest flayed that first half inch of his cock, loosening the skin from the shaft.  Kyle, muffled by the stick, screamed, "No, it hurts.  Don't cut it off.  Please don't cut it off."

Shamed by Kyle's cowardliness, his father looked away.  Surely this coward would never make a soldier, but he had made his choice.  Once the first cut had been made, there was no going back.

The priest, despite Kyle's pleas, continued.  After having pulled the skin back from the bare shaft, he sliced through Kyle's cock until the knife struck the hollow tube; then following the contour of the tube, cut through the rest of his cock, pulling it off the tube when he had finished, depositing it into a bowl which he had placed on the table beside Kyle.

Kyle had never experienced such pain, but the worst was yet to come, for the priest, picking up an iron from the charcoal, applied it to the wound.  Smoke curled from Kyle's groin, and his flesh and blood sizzled.  The pungent odor of burning flesh filled the room.  Luckily Kyle fainted.  The priest sewed together the loose skin he had cut away from Kyle's cock, gathering it around the tube.  When he was healed, he would wear a short tube made of gold inserted into his urethra to keep it from growing shut.  A stud, at the exterior end, would poke through the loose skin, fastened to it to keep the tube in place.

Kyle's father, when it was finished, left, followed by the rest of his sons.  He didn't look back at his second son, who lay on the table.  He would never see him again.  He had been shamed by Kyle's screams.  To him, Kyle no longer existed.  The boys, those whose turns were to come, stared at Kyle until they had left the room, each wondering whether he, too, would scream-wondering which he would choose.  Several, although they hadn't reached puberty, had felt their cocks stir.  Many, that night, tried out on their cocks, what they'd seen the helper do to Kyle's, wondering why they, too, couldn't make the white juice spurt from their cocks.  As they pulled on their cocks, in their minds, they saw Kyle's-as it was pulled down the tube away from his body.  Several stuffed his small cock and balls back between his legs, closing them so they couldn't be seen, to get some idea about how he would look without them.

Kyle's ordeal wasn't over.  The healing arts were as primitive as the martial arts, the tools of the medics as rudimentary as the swords and spears of the soldiers.  Many a boy never survived his castration-whether it were his balls or his cock that he lost, dying from either shock or infection.

It was touch and go for awhile, as Kyle lay in the infirmary, delirious from the fever caused by the infection which festered at his groin.  In his case, the herbs and potions had worked, and, after several weeks he had healed.  Since the golden tube he wore protruded a couple of inches, he could pee standing up, although, urine, leaking around the tube, ran down his leg.  Other than the tube and the skin puckered around it, there was little indication he'd ever had a cock.  His balls, however, still hung from the bush of hair at his crotch.  They still produced.  He'd had one wet dream while in the infirmary, waking to find wet, sticky come matted in his pubic hair and run down between the cheeks of his ass.  Even without a cock, he was horny.  Because he had no cock, he had no means to satisfy the hunger he felt.  He wanted Robley.  He wanted Robley's cock up his ass.  He could almost come thinking about it-but not quite.

He hadn't seen Robley since the morning he'd lost his cock.  Robley hadn't been allowed into the infirmary.  Kyle had one night left at Nagle.  On the morrow, he and Robley would leave for Rageed.  Seeking Robley, he went to the kitchen.  Looking up from his work when Kyle entered, Robley shouted, "Kyle," then, lowering his eyes, aware that the other slaves were watching and listening, said, "Master."

After Kyle said, "Come," Robley put aside his work and followed him to his room, but when he attempted to question Kyle as they walked through the hallway, Kyle put his finger to his lips, saying "Shhh...wait until we get to my room."

When the door to Kyle's room had closed behind the boys, words flooded in a torrent from Robley's mouth: "Take off your pants.  Let me see.  What's it like to not have balls?  Does your cock still get hard?  Can you come?"

"No," answered Kyle, remembering the last time he'd seen his cock as the priest had slid it off the tube and placed it into the bowl.  "My cock will never get hard again."

"Well, damn it, let me see."

Turning around, away from Robley, Kyle dropped his pants, leaving Robley to stare at his bare butt.  Grabbing hold of Kyle's shoulder, Robley pulled, turning Kyle around so that he could see.  When he saw, his mouth dropped in shock.  "You kept your balls.  They cut off your cock."

"Yes."

"But, why?  Why would you do such a stupid thing?"

"I wanted to be able to come.  I didn't want to give that up."

"Can you come if you're dead?  That's what will happen to you in the army; you'll get killed." Then, remembering that he was to go with Kyle, added, "We'll both get killed."  Robley wondered if there was some way he could get out of being Kyle's personal servant.  Working in the kitchen would be better than being eaten by a dragon.  Although he knew that dragons never actually ate humans, they ripped the bodies apart, scattering the remains so that it appeared that they had.

Kyle wasn't thinking about dragons, or about becoming a soldier.  His mind focused on the bulge at Robley's crotch.  He wanted his cock.  He needed to have it up his ass so he could come.  If he couldn't come, he felt like he would die.  What happened later, didn't matter.  All that mattered was Robley's cock-and the climax he knew he would have.  Slipping his hand down the front of Robley's loin cloth, he grabbed his cock, pulling, leading Robley toward his bed.  "I want you," he said.

Although Robley was angry, his hormones won the battle which was raging within.  During the two months Kyle had been away, he'd only had his hand to relieve himself.  Too, the sight of Kyle's crotch-the two balls hanging below the small golden tube, where Kyle's cock had been-turned him on.  As Kyle led him by the cock to the bed, Robley slipped off his loin cloth.  Turning loose of Robley's cock, Kyle slipped off his shirt; then saying, "Just a minute," and taking the fastener off the stud sticking through the loose skin, slipped the tube out of his urethra, placing it on a small table beside the bed. Laying back on the bed and spreading his legs, he beckoned to Robley.

When Robley lay across Kyle, the boy guided Robley's cock to his ass.  Although his hole had tightened during his indisposition, it readily accepted Robley's cock.  He came almost immediately, the come oozing from his pee hole, flowing down onto Robley's cock.  By the time Robley had come, he had again.

It wasn't the same.  He missed the feeling of coming he had felt in his cock, but it was good.  At that moment, he felt he'd made the right decision.  He couldn't imagine being fucked without being able to come.  For him, having a cock wasn't the measure of being a man-having functioning balls was.  He'd had a cock all his life, but until his balls had ripened, it had meant little.  Getting little sleep, the boys spent most of the night fucking.

They had to get up early the next morning.  Rageed was a full day's journey away, and no party smaller than an army would dare be outside the walls at night.  As it was, there would be over two hundred people in their party: merchants and travelers to Rageed; a hundred soldiers.

The caravan gathered before the closed gates.  Twenty-five carts and wagons were hitched to oxen.  Twenty armored knights, carrying lances, rode horses.  The rest walked.  Archers stood behind the parapet at the top of the wall, facing outward.  Dragons, waiting at the edge of the trees, could be expected to attack when the gates opened.  The knights lined up to repel them, if they charged the gates.  When man had arrived on Thale, the attacks had seemed random.  Now, they seemed planned-as if directed by an intelligence.

When the gates opened, more than a hundred dragons charged from the trees three hundred yards away.  Pierced by arrows, few made it to the gates, but one dragged a knight from his horse, biting off his head, despite his armor.  Another knight skewered it with his lance.  Kyle was so frightened that pee, leaking from his golden tube, ran down his leg.  The last dragon had been killed only yards away from him.  Kyle, however, wasn't the only one with a wet crotch.  Several grown men had one as well.  The knight had been the only human casualty.  Luckily, the dragons gathered around a city attacked as soon as the gates were opened.  If they had waited until the caravan was beyond arrow shot from the wall, the results would have been quite different.  Now, the caravan could expect only random attacks until they arrived at Rageed.  There, the army kept dragons away from the city.  As Kyle and Robley left with the caravan, Robley whispered to Kyle, "See, I told you that you should have kept your cock."  Still shaking, Kyle was inclined to agree.

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 he struck, Robley stepped between the beast and Kyle.  The dragon, as its body was pierced with spears, closed its mouth on Robley's head, ripping his head from his body.  As it died, Robley's head slipped from its mouth, rolling on the ground, stopping when it struck Kyle's feet.

If Robley had been asked to give his life for Kyle, he would have refused.  Perhaps he hadn't been sacrificing himself for Kyle; perhaps it had been a misstep, moving in the wrong direction during the confusion of the attack, but Robley was no longer alive to explain his actions.  Kyle thought that he had deliberately stepped between him and the beast to save his life.  Whether he had, or not, he had given his life for Kyle.  Had he not stepped forward when he had, it would have been Kyle's head rolling on the ground.

Kyle remembered little of the rest of the journey; the caravan was soon met by the army which escorted them the rest of the way, so there were no more attacks.  In the city, he reported to the army barracks.  He had his balls, but without Robley, he had no way to come.  Having balls had become a curse.  To need to come, but not having the means to come, was worse than not being able to come, but not needing to come.  Besides loving Robley, he had known that Robley would tell no one that he was fucking Kyle.  Now, in a strange city, he was alone-and in the army.  One day soon, he would have to face a dragon with a sword or spear in his hand.