FSE

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Chapter 1

Rodrig sat in the pub alone, separate from the other cadets as was his preference. He nursed a mug of cheap ale as he listened to the sounds of laughter and merriment from the other patrons. Rodrig told himself it was better to be alone. No one to make back handed comments about his family or his lack of skills on the training grounds. The constant ridicule made him prickly to be around, even to the cadets who mostly left him alone.

“Stay away from Raging Rodrig," One particularly idiotic bully decided to say. “Guys got a permanent stick up his ass."

That comment had earned a punch to the jaw from Rodrig which in turn earned Rodrig a night in a cell and a docking of his pay. His Commanding Officer also required an official apology from Rodrig. He did as commanded. But when he asked for an apology for the comments that led to the scuffle, he was told to grow up and get over it.

Rodrig continued to sip his beer, trying to clear his mind but finding himself focusing on his frustrations. He muttered little curses under his breath, so in his own head he didn't notice when the seat next to his was taken. Nor did he notice that the stranger was watching and listening as he quietly spoke his curses and threats into his cup of ale.

“You look like you've got a thorn stuck in your paw Lad. Care to share your woes?" the man sitting next to Rodrig said.

It took a moment for Rodrig to realize who was talking to him. He looked over to see the man in question. Rodrig was considered a bit more stout than most, but the man sitting beside him was a mountain by comparison. He barely fit on the small bar stool and had a mass of muscle that put Rodrig's slightly buff frame to shame. His arms were covered in a thin layer of black hair. His square jaw was covered with a small amount of scruff, like he hadn't shaved in a couple of days. And his eyes were a light brown almost approaching red. His long black hair had been braided into a ponytail that reached halfway down his back.

It was the first time Rodrig had ever seen a man with long hair. He liked it. A lot. Then Rodrig realized he was staring and turned away.

“Sorry sir." Rodrig said, trying to be polite. “Don't mind me. Just a long day."

“I'm surprised you're not over there with the other young bucks," the Stranger said. “Most cadets at the academy stay pretty tightly knitted together."

“How did you know I was a cadet?"

“You're still wearing your training uniform. As are they."

“Oh." Rodric said, feeling a bit dumb he didn't realize that. “I'm fine. I'm happier alone."

“Then why have you been mumbling obscenities into your mug?" the stranger said. He didn't say it in an accusing tone. It almost sounded like teasing. If anyone else had talked to him like that, he would have stood up and asked them if they wanted to take the discussion outside. This man was playing with him. Poking fun at him. For some reason he didn't mind. Rodrig smiled for the first time that night. He tried to hide it with his hand.

“Heard that huh?" Rodrig said, a little bit of a blush coming on from the embarrassment of being caught brooding.

“I did," the Stranger said. “It does the body no good to let such thoughts fester. Tell me what's wrong."

“It's nothing. I'm just a little frustrated at my Commander." Rodrig said. He knew he shouldn't speak ill about his superior officer. Especially to a stranger. If word got out that he was going around town disparaging his superior, it could lead to discipline. But he couldn't resist. The details just started spilling out of him. “I got in a fight with another cadet. He's been saying things about me. I lost my temper and punched him. Got in trouble. Was forced to give an apology I didn't mean. But when I asked for an apology back, I was told I didn't deserve it."

Rodrig took a sip of his ale. He couldn't believe he had just told the stranger that. Rodrig had always been tight lipped about his problems. In fact, keeping secrets seemed to be the only thing he felt good at. He had to admit that getting it off his chest felt good.

“Sorry. I don't know why I said that. Must have had one too many tonight." Rodrig said as he started to stand up. “I won't bother you anymore."

“You're not a bother," the Stranger said. “I was the one who asked. Is the shit talker here tonight?"

The other cadet was with his regular group of friends. They were the loudest group there. A collection of young studs who believed that they were the greatest thing on the earth. Rodrig knew the academy got multiple complaints about the click. But as far as he knew, no actions had been taken against the group. Rodrig could hear them making lewd comments about the hostess. They were not being covert about it. Everyone in the bar could hear them.

“Yeah." Rodrig said, sitting back down.

“I'm surprised the guard hasn't been called to deal with them yet," The Stranger said. “Trash like that would have been better off staying in their daddy's balls."

Rodrig was in the middle of taking another drink when he heard the crass comment. He nearly spit his ale out at the surprising comment. Instead he ended up inhaling half the mouthful and started coughing. Once he finally had his bearings back, he started laughing.

“Don't say stuff like that when I'm drinking," Rodrig said. “That's funny though. I'm going to have to remember that one."

“You're welcome to it," the Stranger said with a small nod. He had just gotten his own drink delivered. A glass of white wine. He swirled the contents in the fancy glass before taking a small sip. “What are you going to do about it?"

“About what? The rowdy ones back there?"

“No," the Stranger said. “You're not responsible for their actions. I meant about your Commander. He's letting a member of his team talk disparagingly about another member of the unit. Doesn't bode well for morale. Doesn't lead to a cohesive unit. Thought about asking to be transferred to another team?"

Rodrig looked over his shoulder to see if anyone was listening. Most were ignoring him, but a few of the cadets had noticed he was talking to a stranger. He thought before he answered. He had already risked his neck once tonight. He couldn't afford to risk it again.

“Maybe he's right," Rodrig said. “Maybe I need to toughen up."

The Stranger snorted.

“You don't believe that," He said. “Try again."

“It's not a good idea to talk badly about a commanding officer," Rodrig said in a hushed whisper. “Besides, it would be the same with any other unit I got transferred to. I'm sorry. I shouldn't even be talking to you about this stuff." Rodrig downed the last of his ale before beginning to stand up. The Stranger's hand was placed on his shoulder and pushed him back down.

“It's because I asked." The stranger said. “You don't have to apologize for speaking your truth to me when I was the one who requested the info." His hand squeezed Rodrig's shoulder, rubbing his thumb in a circular motion. It felt good and was stirring a heat inside of him. Rodrig had to bite his tongue from making noises.

“Tell me, why did you join the guard?" The Stranger asked.

“It was my only option," Rodrig found himself answering without a second thought. Like he was under a spell. “Family kicked me out and I don't have the skills to apprentice anywhere." Rodrig felt a bit of shame rise as he admitted something so personal to a complete stranger. But the hand on his shoulder felt good. He imagined the man's hands massaging his shoulders.

That was when Rodrig realized another part of his body was having an unexpected reaction to the touch of the Stranger. His penis started to swell up in his pants. He began to panic, quickly leaning over and placing his arms on the bar to try and block anyone from seeing the growth.The man chuckled to himself. It was low and deep, almost like a growl. It drove Rodrig crazy for reasons he could not explain.

“I'm sure you felt that it was your only option," The stranger said. “But I'm sure another opportunity will present itself. Maybe try to keep an open mind."

He gave my shoulder one final squeeze before letting go and standing up. He dropped a few coins on the countertop.

“This should cover the boy's drink." The stranger said. “Name's Jerimiah by the way. What's yours?" He said to Rodrig.

“Rodrig."

“It was nice to meet you, Rodrig. Hopefully we will meet again soon."

Rodrig didn't answer. But he couldn't help but stare after the man as he left. He was so tall, he had to duck his head when he exited the door. After his eyes finally left the man, it was like a spell had been broken. Clarity suddenly returned to him and he realized that quite a few people at the bar were looking at him. Rodrig waited for his erection to subside before stepping out of the pub, making sure not to meet anyone's eyesight in the meantime.

---

That next day, Rodrig was on the practice field running drills with his fellow cadet's. The weighted wooden sword was swung back and forth in a familiar pattern. The Commander called out his name and his stomach fell. He fell out of stance and looked in the direction of the voice that called his name. His Commander looked pissed. Granted, this was not a new look when he was dealing with Rodrig.

Rodrig jogged over to stand before his Commander before saluting and standing at attention.

“Some of your fellow cadets said you were in contact with a mysterious character last night. Care to elaborate."

Rodrig's heart began to beat in his ears. Panic filled his thoughts. Had someone seen his erection. Did they know about his orientation? He did his best to hide those fears, keeping his stance as still as possible and staring forward.

“Can you be more specific, sir?" Rodrig said.

“At the bar dipshit!" The Commander said. Rodrig felt the eyes of everyone on the training field staring at them.

“Yes Sir. I was approached by a stranger. What did you want to know, Sir?"

“What do I want to know?" The commander repeated back. He often did that when he thought someone was asking a stupid question. “What did he want? It's not normal for an out of towner to come and talk with a nobody like you. It's mysterious. What did he talk to you about?"

“Nothing serious Sir," Rodrig said. “Asked me how my day was. Asked me about why I wanted to be a city guard. I think he was bored or lonely. Must have wanted an excuse to talk to someone. Saw I was sitting alone and struck up a conversation."

“Is that it?" The Commander asked. Rodrig thought for a moment before he responded.

“He paid for my drink, Sir." I said.

“He asked you for any favors?" The Commander said. His tone was the one used when he was accusing someone of doing something wrong.

“No Sir." Rodrig answered immediately.

“Give you his name?"

“I think so, Sir. But I don't remember it exactly. Maybe Jeremy or Joshua."

“You fucking idiot," the Commander said before hocking a loogy against the nearby grass. “You're training to become a member of the city guard. Remembering small details is part of your job description, dipshit."

“I'm sorry Sir." Rodrig said, his voice coming out shaky. “I'll try to do better, Sir."

The commander gave a deep sigh.

“Get back to training, cadet. And if you see that man again, I want you to report him to me directly. You understand?"

“Sir! Yes, sir!" Rodrig screamed back. He gave a hasty salute and ran back to grab his practice sword.

---

Rodrig went for a walk after training, avoiding going to the showers like the other cadets. He would go take a shower later. Alone. Safer that way. No one there to give him shit that way. It also meant he wouldn't be tempted to stare at his fellow cadets. Even though they were assholes, some of them were still attractive enough to arouse Rodrig which would not have been ideal in a group shower situation. Besides, being in the woods was one of the few places where the young cadet could go to ease his mind. When he was out in the wilds, he could breathe. Something he needed after having the Commander breathing down his neck the rest of the day.

After heading far enough into the woods that he knew he wouldn't be disturbed, Rodrig laid his back against a tree and slowly lowered himself to the ground. His pants would get dirty but he didn't care. They were already covered with sweat and grass stains. He took a deep breath, smelling the forest. He laid back his head and closed his eyes. He listened to the sound of the birds and felt the wind in his hair and let his mind just go blank.

A deep growl met his ears and his eyes shot open. He looked around, trying to see where the noise came from. He slowly raised himself back up to a sitting position, pushing himself against the tree as he listened. He couldn't see anything. He thought that maybe it was just in his imagination. Then he heard it again. It was close. Like whatever it was stood right beside him. He peeked around the tree, nothing. But he definitely heard it. Another growl, louder this time. He looked up.

Staring down at him from the branches was a huge, furry beast. It had the head of a wolf, long black hair covering its body. But instead of four legs, it had arms and legs like a man. It's deep red eyes met his. It licked its lips, revealing its sharp fangs. Rodrig's body moved on its own. He ran like he had never run before. The beast, whatever it was, followed right behind him. He could hear the sound of deep thumps against the ground as it chased him. Its panting was loud. Rodrig could feel its hot breath against his neck. He ducked and jumped over branches and roots, desperate to make it back to the academy. He was so close. It was just down the hill.

His foot caught on a raised root and he toppled over. His body began to roll down the hill. Each and every tumble and turn ripped into his clothes and skin until he finally reached the bottom. He landed on his stomach, the air was pushed from his lungs. He grunted and tried to move but still hadn't caught his breath.

“What the fuck are you doing?" A familiar voice said above him. It was one of his fellow cadets, staring down at him but not offering him any sort of help. He looked down at Rodrig like one looked at an annoying child.

“Beast," Rodrig said, his heartbeat pounding in his head. “In the forest. Chasing me."

“What beast?" the cadet said. “Gods, your a fucking freak Rodrig." A few other voices nearby began laughing. It was then Rodrig noticed that he had an audience. They all pointed and laughed.

“I'm not crazy!" Rodrig screamed. “It was out there. It had the face of a wolf and it was staring at me from up in the trees!"

“Look out everybody, the wolf monkey is on the loose."

“Not only is he an ass, he's also got a bunch of screws loose in his head."

“Gods, why don't they just kick him out already."

Rodrig slowly pulled himself up. He felt pain all over his body but nothing appeared to be broken. He looked at his mockers, rage filling his insides.

“Fuck all of you!" Rodrig screamed. The beast was forgotten.

“What in the Gods are all of you nitwits doing?" The voice of the Commander demanded from nearby. He pushed his way through the laughing cadets and saw Rodrig covered in scratches and dirt. “Cadet Brinslow! What did you do now?"

“Commander. There's a beast in the forest. It tried to attack me but I was able to get away. We have to form a search party. It could hurt others." Rodrig was telling, no begging his commander to take action.

“He said it was a wolf that climbed up a tree. How fucking stupid can you be." One of the cadets said between fits of laughter.

The commander grew pale after hearing the description. For a brief moment, Rodrig felt a flutter of hope. Maybe his Commander wasn't all bad. He had believed him. For once the bastard would take his side. Someone finally took his side. Then the Commander's rage face was staring him down. Faith and hope left his body as cold realization hit him. The Commander was not on his side.

“All of you shut it!" The commander screamed.

“And you!" The commander pointed at Rodrig. “What were you doing out there to begin with?"

“Clearing my head, Sir," Rodrig said. “It helps to clear my thoughts after training."

The commander turned his head and spit on the ground. The cadets standing nearby jumped back to avoid getting hit by the projectile.

“Go to your quarters and don't leave until I come and fetch you." The Commander said.

“But Sir-"

“ENOUGH!" The Commander screamed. “THIS IS A DIRECT ORDER, CADET!"

Rodrig stood there looking back at everyone who was staring back at him. The training field was silent. He could feel it. This was the final straw. He was going to be kicked out. He slumped forward, staring at the ground. Unable to look everyone in the face. His raging emotions were now completely snuffed by a sense of numbness. He did as he was told and walked away, not daring to look back and incur more wrath.

The academy was a group of small buildings. A dorm, a school, a mess hall and a practice field in the back. Everyone at the time was gathered around the mess hall so he didn't see many people on his way to the dorms. It was probably for the best he told himself. He didn't want people seeing him and his walk of shame.

Rodrig was back in his small dorm room. There was a bed, a sink with running water and a drawer for his clothes. He grabbed a washcloth and filled the sink with water. He stripped off his shirt and looked at himself in the mirror. Rodrig had dark tan skin and well defined muscles, which were now covered in thin scratches and bruises. Luckily nothing serious. He had wiry hair, halfway between blond and brown, and a bit of scruff on his chin. Not enough to be considered a beard but still there. He began using the water to clean himself off since he hadn't had a chance to shower before being sentenced to his quarters. It was a slow process, especially since he kept wincing every time the cloth went over a wound. But he got it done. Next came off his pants. Again he repeated the process. Lastly his underwear came off. Luckily his manhood hadn't been skewered by a rogue twig. His hair across his body was the same color as his head. He wasn't as hairy as the man from the pub. Rodrig's cock gave a little jump at the thought of the Stranger. Then he remembered his current predicament and any horny thoughts he might have had were washed down the drain with the dirty water. He dressed in a fresh pair of underwear, pants and a shirt and waited. And waited. Until he fell asleep.

---

Rodrig was awoken by the sound of knocking at his door. The late day sun had set and stars filled the sky.

“Come in." Rodrig called as he sat up. The Commander came in. He was followed by a thin man with black hair and a scowl that Rodrig had never met. He wore clothes that looked like they cost more than Rodrig would ever make and had an ornate rapier sheathed to his side.

“Grab your things," the Commander said as he threw a large backpack at Rodrig. “You have five minutes to pack up."

“Sir, please," Rodrig begged. “I don't have anywhere else to go. I'll do better. I'll..."

“Shut your damn mouth." the Commander said in a low voice. “Keep your voice down. If you wake any of the other cadets, I'll have your damn hide. Do you understand?"

Rodrig nodded. He moved in a stiff but quick fashion, packing up his civilian clothes and the few knick knacks he still had. A small marble. A utility knife. The few bits of coin he was able to save doing odd jobs on the weekend. A pack of playing cards. The uniforms he left. They wouldn't belong to him anymore. He zipped up the bag and hoisted it over his shoulder.

“Don't say a single word." the Commander said, his face inches from Rodrig's “You are to follow me. Understand?" Rodrig nodded. The Commander left. Rodrig followed and the fancy man followed behind Rodrig. They made their way down the corridors of the dormitory and out the back entrance. Rodrig thought they were going to head to the front gate of the academy where they would push him out the door and shut it behind him. Instead they headed towards the training yard. Then past the training yard and towards the woods. Rodrig remembered the event from that afternoon and stopped walking.

“Sir, the beast." Rodrig said. Something pressed into his back. The rich looking man was right behind him.

“I've got my rapier at your back." The fancy man said. He had a high class accent. “Keep walking or I'll impale you on it." To make his point clear, the man pressed the rapier forward enough to pierce the skin. The prick on his back was enough to get him moving.

When they reached the woods, there was a pair of lanterns waiting for them. Both were already lit. The Commander took one. The fancy gentleman took the other. They continued to walk with Rodrig in the middle, the blade sitting against his back. Rodrigue thought about running. But even with the full moon, the trees covered the land making it blindingly dark. With the beast still roaming the woods., it would be suicide. He wasn't sure what his current situation was yet either though. After the academy was out of sight, the Commander stopped and turned around. He was holding a pair of shackles and a piece of fabric.

“Turn around. Hands behind your back," the Commander said. Rodrig began to protest but a sudden searing pain from the gentleman slashing his rapier across his back shut Rodrig up. He could tell he was bleeding, the blood from the wound warming his back.Rodrig did as he was told, dropping his backpack. The gentlemen kept the blade poking at his chest, its tip covered in a bit of his blood. The Commander slapped the shackles onto his wrist. They clicked closed. The Commander then pushed Rodrig forward. He fell and landed on his chest, unable to catch himself with his hands, his face slammed into the dirt. The Commander pressed his knee into Rodrig's back to keep him down and slipped the fabric around his face and into his mouth before tying both ends behind his head. Rodrig tried to speak, to scream, but the cloth held his tongue down. As the Commander forced him to his feet, Rodrig was face to face with the gentlemen again. He had sheathed his rapier.

“So, you're the one he came back for?" the gentleman said. He looked Rodrig up and down. “I'm not terribly impressed." Rodrig tried to tell the pompous ass to shut the fuck up. The gag made it come out as muffled noises and grunts.

The Commander forced him around and began pushing him forward. Rodrig stumbled back and forth as his body was led through the forest. Once he tripped and fell to his knees. The Commander slapped him across the face and forced him up again.

“Come on out Jerimiah. I know you're back in town." The Commander called into the woods. “Decided to hunt yourself another young buck? Well guess what? You can have this one on me. He's a fucking loser with no family. Won't be missed. All you gotta do to have him is leave town. For good this time."

“And if you don't come and claim your prize," the gentlemen said. “I'll gut him."

Rodrig began to scream at the threat on his life. He didn't know what was going on. He tried to beg but all that came out were muffled whimpers from behind the muzzle.

“Hear that? The young buck is calling for you." the Gentleman stepped forward, placing a boot against his ankle and pressing down. The pain shot through his lower body, making him scream out in agony.

“Fucking pathetic. No wonder your family didn't want you." The Commander started to lecture to no one in particular. “Well guess what, you're going to be food for the beast." The Commander pulled out a pocket knife and slowly dragged it across his cheek, leaving a cut that let out small ruby red drops of blood.

Rodrig began to shake. He had never been so scared in his life. Even running from the beast wasn't as bad as the torture of being openly betrayed. At least his family didn't sacrifice him. When he heard the sound of twigs snapping, he assumed it was the beast. He found himself feeling a sense of relief. Rodrig was done. Never had he thought he would be the type of person to wish for death. But after all the rejection and hiding who he was, maybe he just wasn't made for this world. He just hoped that the beast would rip out his throat first so he didn't have to suffer. He looked up to see his end but instead saw the man he had met just the night before.

“There you are." the Gentleman said. “Was wondering when you would show up, Monster."

“Hello again, Little Brother." the voice of the man from the bar said. “It's been too long."

“We are not family, you freak!" The Gentleman said. “I don't know why you thought it was okay to hunt here but I will not stand for it. Take your prize and leave here."

The Commander pulled Rodrig to a kneeling position. The man from the night before had a furious look on his face when he got a better look at Rodrig.

“What did you do to him?" Jeremiah said. “Why would you do this to him?"

“Because he's a useless freak," the Commander said. “ Had to rough him up a bit for wasting my time. Besides, can't your kind smell the blood of your prey?" The Commander forced Rodrig to his feet before smashing the bottom of his foot against the bound man's back. Rodrig felt himself jettisoned forward. Before he could hit the ground, he landed against something large and warm instead.

“I've got you kid." Jeremiah whispered down to Rodrig before turning back to the two men still standing on the other side of the clearing. “Care to provide the key to his bonds?"

“You're a big strong beast. I'm sure you can tear them off." The gentleman said before cackling into the night. The sound grated against Rodrig's frayed nerves. He heard the sound of the Commander and Gentleman walk away, throwing the clearing into darkness when they took their lanterns with them.

Jeremiah untied the cloth gag, letting Rodrig move his tongue.

“Are you all right?" Jeremiah asked now that they were alone.

The answer was no. Rodrig was far from alright. He was terrified, confused and standing in a close to pitch black dark forest that just earlier that day he had run through while being chased by a hound-like creature that could climb trees. On top of that, he had been slashed by two different blades and his ankle felt like it was on fire.

“I'm fine." Rodrig said out of habit.

“We'll get you to my camp where I can check your injuries." Jeremiah said. He gently helped Rodrig to his feet. “Is that pack they dropped yours?"

“I don't know." Rodrig said. “I can't see. Probably. They did have me pack my bag before…" He didn't finish the sentence.

“Stay here." Jeremiah told him. Rodrig heard him take a few steps away from him, pick something up and walk. “Hold still."

Rodrig felt Jeremiah grab the chain that secured the manacles behind his back. Jeremiah started grunting and then the chain snapped. Rodrig's hands were still bound by the wrist cuffs, but he could now move them freely.

“How did you break them?" Rodrig asked.

“Now is not the best time to explain," Jeremiah said, wrapping his arm around Rodrig's. “I have good night vision so I will lead you back to my camp. Can you walk?"

“I got my ankle stomped on." Rodrig said.

“I might be able to carry you," Jeremiah said. Before Rodrig could respond, he felt himself getting scooped up. The noise of surprise he made was not one he hoped to ever make again. He was being held like a bride being carried across the threshold.

“Down! Put me down!" Rodrig cried.

“Shh you." Jeremiah barked. “Unless you want to walk to my camp on a hurt ankle."

“I could make it."

“You're a terrible liar. Now stand still. It's easier to move if you stay still."

Rodrig couldn't see anything but he could hear the quick sounds of feet pounding into earth and the feeling of the night air rushing past his face. Jeremiah moved faster than he would have expected. Especially carrying his weight. He gripped against Jeremiah's shirt and bicep like he would fall if he didn't. Granted that's exactly how he felt. Eventually they started to slow down and then came to a stop. Jeremiah slowly set him down, lowering him onto what felt like a small wooden stool.

“Stay here. I'm going to light a fire." Jeremiah whispered next to Rodrig. He let Rodrig's arm go and stepped away. The familiar sound of flint and steel sounded out and a moment later, light emerged from a small fire pit. The light cast around the camp, revealing a rather large tent and knapsack as well as a donkey and small cart. Jeremiah was next to him a moment later, carrying a piece of jerky.

“Eat this and wait here. I've got some tools that can pick the locks on those shackles." Jeremiah told him.

Rodrig bit into the jerky, his mouth watering after he realized how hungry he was. Once he was done, Jeremiah offered him another. He greedily took it, tearing into the flavorful meat.

“You can have another piece after I'm done with these," Jeremiah said, grabbing one of the loose chains connected to Rodrig's arms, pulling it into his lap.

“Can you tell me what happened?" Jeremiah asked as he got to work on the locks.

“I don't know. The Captain suddenly told me to stay in my quarters and when he came to get me, that guy was with him. I thought they were going to kick me out of the academy but then they brought me to the woods. Then that...fancy asshole pulled a sword on me. Told me if I didn't move, he would gut me. Then they tied me up and gagged me."

“Did they say why?" Jeremiah asked. One of the shackles came undone. He grabbed Rodrig's other wrist and got to work on the second one.

“No. They didn't tell me anything. But I get the feeling it has something to do with you." Rodrig said, sounding a bit more accusing then he meant to be of the man who had possibly saved his life.

“Yeah." Jeremiah said. “I do. But the explanations are going to have to wait until morning. We need to be out of here at first light."

“Leave?" Rodrig said, a little panic creeping in. “I can't leave."

“You can't stay either." Jeremiah said. “You're not safe here. That man, the fancy asshole as you called him, won't let you live if you stay."

The second shackle came off. Jeremiah took the two halves of the shackles and dropped them in the cart.

“Why? I didn't do anything to him." Rodrig asked.

“It's not about what you did. It's about what you are."

Rodig's heart sank. He could only think of one thing that could cause such a reaction. One of the other cadet's must have seen something that outed him. That he was a homosexual. It was the reason his father kicked him out at 16. Why he had to join the academy. He wanted to scream. Instead he felt some tears streak down his cheeks.

“I didn't ask to be like this." Rodrig said. “I didn't ask to be a faggot."

“That's not what I...oh kid." Jeremiah was suddenly holding him in a big hug. “That's not something you can control. And it's nothing to be ashamed of."

“Yes it is." Rodrig sobbed against the man's chest. “The scripture says a man must procreate. That wasting your seed in another man is akin to murder."

“Kid, sorry to break this to you but the scripture was written by a bunch of assholes with 16 slave wives apiece." Jeremiah said, squeezing him in a way that felt so comforting. “They weren't exactly the height of moral standings."

“But I..."

“No buts." Jeremiah said, holding him at arm's length and staring him directly in the eyes. “You being gay isn't a bad thing. It doesn't mean you deserve to be treated less than. And don't say faggot. If I hear that word come out of your mouth again, especially in reference to yourself, I'll tan your hide. Understood?"

Rodrig was speechless. Never had he been both scolded and ameliorated at the same time. The stern gaze staring down at him was not one that could be bargained with though. He nodded, not wanting to say anything more to disappoint the man.

“Good." Jeremiah said before handing Rodrig another slice of jerky. “Eat this while I prepare you a bedroll." Rodrig took the meat muttering a quiet thank you. He ate it quietly. He had never actually told anyone about his sexuality before. Not willingly. His father had found out without him knowing. God knows how the Commander found out. Or the strange gentleman. Rodrig didn't think he would ever tell anyone. His plan was to keep it a secret. To die a bachelor and let his older brother be the one to carry on the family name. He did not expect to be scolded for hating what he was.

“Bed's ready. Come on, let's get you laid down so I can take a look at your wounds." Jeremiah wrapped his arm around Rodrig, hooking his hand underneath the other's arm before pulling him up like it was nothing. He led him to the tent and brought him over to one of two bed rolls that took up the space before lowering him down.

“Before you lay down, I need you to take off your shirt." Jeremiah said.

“Why?" Rodrig asked, feeling suddenly vulnerable after sharing his biggest secret.

“You're bleeding on your back. The wound needs to be cleaned. I also need to look at that cut on your cheek and your ankle."

Rodrig knew from basic first aid that Jeremiah was right. But that didn't make him feel any better about it. He hooked his fingers under his shirt before pulling it off, putting it down near where his head would be before laying face down.

“Good boy. Now wait here while I get my first aid equipment." Jeremiah left the tent. Before he could return though, Rodrig fell asleep.