The Triumvirate

Napoleon continued to lie there with the affectionate Samuel enfolded in his arms and looked into his eyes smiling, "You have the most remarkable blue eyes. They are like chips of choice sapphires" He remarked adoringly.

"Blue? No, my eyes are brown." Samuel politely corrected his lover.

"Well they are blue now," Napoleon avowed. He pushed himself up onto one elbow his other hand leisurely drawing small circles around Samuel's erect nipple and continued to study his eyes. "Now I see what it is, I've just realized they are the exact same shade as Sergi's." he said excitedly.

"Really, well now that is interesting." Samuel said as he smiled back.

"You don't think it might have something to do with the bonding ritual you performed on him before do you? Would it still be in place?" Napoleon queried with some distress.

He wondered what Illya might have experienced, while the two of them had made such ferocious sex. He hoped that there would be no adverse affects to him, emotionally or physically. He silently castigated himself; the last thing he had been thinking of before the two of them succumbed to their carnal desires was Illya, his Inamorato, he just didn't know how he could have let this happen. He was puzzled, he did not know if it had been Illya he had desired or the sublime young Zealot that snuggled next to him.

Samuel closed his eyes for a moment and tried to open the mental link with Illya, in a flash he realised that the bond was still dreadfully functional.

"Yes the bond is still there, I was so out of my mind I completely forgot the bonding might persist after Illya, I mean Sergi, I ah…" He faltered in mid-sentence.

"Illya!?" Napoleon could not help interrupt. He sat up quickly looking at Samuel with deep suspicion. His every muscle was now taut ready to strike like a snake as he felt their cover blow away like dust in the wind.

"Ah, well, I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have said that, just when the bond is so active… I forgot myself; I won't let it happen again, I am sorry. What's more, you already knew that in any case." Samuel attempted to explain ruefully.

"Me knowing it or not has little to do with what happens next, you had best explain yourself quickly my friend" Napoleon snapped back at him.

"Steady on, Napoleon please, really I didn't mean anything by it honestly. It's, it's just that the link, it opens up countless facets of the psyche. Numerous other aspects of His mind are blocked to me; one fixation that I couldn't help but perceive was just how powerfully He clung to that name, his distinctiveness, it was to… to maintain his sanity." Samuel fired out answers as rapidly as he could.

"So, just what DO you know" Napoleon continued to interrogate the very tense Samuel.

"Truthfully, I know very little, He has a very compartmentalized mind you know. Most of what I have put together is just suppositions. I have guessed that you're both here to either over throw the Patrician, which is what I hope for also, or you are here to rescue someone, but just whom I do not know." Samuel pleaded honestly.

"How can I believe you?" Napoleon questioned.

"You must believe me, I would never betray either of you to the Patrician, I can't tell you just how much abhorrence I have towards him and wish to be free of his power over the Sicarii" Samuel beseeched him solemnly.

"I wish there was someway I could trust you, but I can't see anyway that I can." Napoleon declared.

Samuel became very calm; he looked into Napoleon's eyes and said with great gravity, "There is one way; you could bond me to you through the ritual. Once I open my entire mind to you, all my thoughts would be exposed, devoid of any deception."

"You must be joking," Napoleon just about whispered in shocked disbelief.

"I can think of no other way, not only would it link the two of us, but through the bonding that I already have him, you would be linked to Illya as well." Samuel declared. "Think on that, the three of us bonded, each to the other, we could work as one mind to over throw the Patrician."

"There are some thoughts and memories; I would not wish to share with anyone." Napoleon comment guardedly.

"You wouldn't have to though, I would utterly open myself to you, and I have nothing I need to hide. You can decide to keep your thoughts shielded and no manner of searching would allow either Illya or I to infiltrate them." Samuel went on to explain.

"You share Illya's pain, his experiences don't you. He also shares yours does he not? " Napoleon asked with a great deal of hesitation.

"Yes, pain, sensations, emotions, these we share without reservation; however our thoughts are our own, except if we deliberately opt to communicate them." He revealed.

"So Illya would fully realize what we have just done, but not be aware of our thoughts while we were together?" Napoleon gave voice to his deepest concern.

"Is this what you would not want to reveal. Just to what extent he would discern what took place I'm not sure, I am sure he would be aware of it in some way, physically at least." Samuel confirmed with regret.

Napoleon shook his head trying to clear his thoughts, what would it mean to be bonded to both Samuel and Illya; at least it did present a way to be completely guaranteed Samuel's honesty and dependability.

"Alright then, explain to me how does this bonding happens" demanded Napoleon.

"There is a simple method to accomplish the ritual. You must understand the symbolic nature behind the bonding. Firstly, there are the words of 'Introduction' you must say the phrase 'let me introduce to you the Sicæ'. After that, there must be the element of agony, the rib represents that which enfolds or guards. Breaking it ruptures the individual's defenses. Linked with this breaking is the drawing in of the scream, the healing, and the drawing of the breath from your lungs and finally the kiss through which the potion is given that allows the melding of the two lives."

"If we do this how can I be sure Illya will be cut off from the effects of this agony part. Can you block it out?" an anxious Napoleon asked.

"Possibly, I will be able to create a block to the greater part of the distress. You have to remember, the purpose of this is to break my resistance and I cannot promise that I will be able to preserve the barrier." Samuel explained with a great deal of regret. He knew how much Napoleon cared for his friend, but he could offer little in the way of hope that he could shield Illya from this potential anguish. His only hope may lay in his being able to focus, not on the pain, but the exquisite ecstasy this could arouse and let that disguise the potential shock of it. He reflected on that perception, of that idyllic notion of ecstasy and agony.

Napoleon gave Samuel's answer considerable thought before he responded. "Alright, what do we need to do first?"

Samuel did not hesitate; he got up and walked to the writing desk where, from small wooden box, he took a capsule. Samuel held it out to Napoleon as he explained, "This contains the potion you need to give me when you finally kiss me. This is the key to the whole ritual and the seal the bonding. All you have to do is, while you are holding it in your mouth; break it just as you complete the union with a kiss."

Napoleon reached out to where the Sicæ had dropped earlier and took it up as he stood. Its response was a mere token this time, a mild vibration like a buzzer at the same time as his perception sharpened instantaneously. Yet again, he could see the energy pathways course throughout Samuel's still unclothed body. He took the capsule from Samuel's hand and placed it under his tongue, and then with one fluid, indomitable, motion drew Samuel to him. Looking into Samuel's eyes, he said. "Let me introduce to you the Sicæ!"

Illya awoke with a start; vivid images of a somewhat erotic dream involving Samuel and Napoleon still lingered in his mind and he tried to make sense of it. An uncomfortable sticky wetness reminded him of pubescent times and he had just decided it had been some uncomplicated flight of fantasy when a deep flood of pure orgasmic rapture ripped through him and he sucked in a deep, sharp intake of breath.

Stunning feelings of unadulterated ecstasy and love thrilled his mind and body and he could feel his rapidly hardening erection develop beneath him. Another irrepressible wave of an orgasm rolled through him and supplied an increase to the wetness beneath him as he pumped out a gush of warm jism. Illya was unmistakably aware of a second, then a third consciousness within his own mind. They were not insidious but irresistible, so filled with love and compassion were they, that he embraced them without fear. Somehow, he knew, it was Samuel and Napoleon that had established a connection to his psyche. "But how?" he thought.

'We are bonded both together and with you,' two distinct mental voices spoke in chorus. 'Do not be afraid our beloved, soon we shall be with you in body as well as mind, sleep now, we will be with you before long.'

Illya was amazed; it was like waking from a dream, yet still enclosed within its silky haven. Warm feelings like comforting arms wrapped around him seemed to swathe him, the near overwhelming love that he felt was consoling, yet the idea of having Napoleon, and Samuel's consciousness within his own mind was rather unsettling. As he was lying there, he realised that the tenderness of his wounded back had lessened significantly and he relaxed back into a now peaceful sleep.

The room Illya rested in was actually a large place, more a disused wing of the castle than a room. It was many years ago that it underwent its transformation into an infirmary to meet the needs of the sick and injured, though recently its main use had been as a place to convalesce those victims of the Patrician. Kardinel regretted that many of the beautiful young men had not recovered. There was little any of the healers could do to nurse them back to health. Even as the primate of the holy order of healing in Sicarii, Kardinel's tender ministration could not help though he had some success in relieving their pain in the final hours of their young lives. How he hated the evil that the Patrician had bought about in the order. He remembered a time when the Sicarii had been an honorable and faithful community. He regretted the decline of his order more now than at any time in the past. So many of the ancient ways had been lost, when he had joined, the then primate was an old and senile man, was unable to pass on more than simple cures and tonics.

The holy order of healing had forsaken the Sicæ as a weapon of harm and ruin many years before he came to the healers. How they had declined to little more than a group of quacksalvers had frustrated Kardinel for many years. He had tried, but the Patrician was unyielding, refusal to allow him to seek greater understanding he had thwarted every effort Kardinel made. His final attempt had broken his will; he had gone to plead with the Patrician and received not only an abusive denial but also such a violent thrashing that it left him a patient in his own infirmary for weeks recovering. The order had lost most of its history and records and few cared for the slow decline of the prestige the healers had once held or even fewer bothered to seek for the ancient knowledge that had been lost to them. Kardinel sat at his desk and considered the fate of the latest young victim, beautiful and strong though he was, he was sure this young man would depart in a slow and painful way just as all the others had.

Kardinel looked at his old wrinkled hands. He thought to himself how much he had dreamed during his 80 years of being able to use them to truly heal and restore life. He sighed deeply and pushed his old and decrepit frame out of his chair, it was time, once again to see to the young man's dressings. He shuffled down the corridor that ran from his small office past several of the now vacant rooms that once held determined young healers. As he hobbled along, he thought of them, all gone now to fulfill other duties in the Sicarii that they obviously felt offered a better future for their young lives. There were just his two assistants and himself now, he hardly felt worthy of being called the primate of the holy order of healers. Unless the Patrician had been right saying, 'he was nothing more than the ape being the aped.'

Kardinel reached the large room where the handsome young man Napoleon had bought his friend. He remembered the tears rolling down Napoleons blood splattered face as he cradled the injured boy in his strong arms. He tried to remember what Napoleon had called the boy, Sergi that was it. As he walked in, one of his assistants rose from the stool in the corner where he had been sitting and looked at him inquisitively.

"I'm just about to change young Sergi's dressings," he explained as he continued over to the bed Illya rested on. Kardinel could hear Sergi gently snoring, a good sign, at least he was in a deep sleep. Quietly he began to examine him; if he was gentle, he might just be able to change his dressing without rousing the poor boy. Tenderly he took hold of the dressing and little by little pulled it away from Sergi's back. Kardinel gasped and he gave a small shriek, Sergi's back had healed completely! Kardinel stumbled backwards in shock; his hands shook uncontrollably and dropped the dressing to the floor. Suddenly a crushing pain ripped through his chest and down his arms. The shock had been too much for him and he crumpled to the floor like a rag doll.

Things happened in quick succession; the young assistant hurled himself towards Kardinel lifted the old man up he cradled him in his arms and wailed, "No, please No!" Illya sprang out of bed in surprise quickly taking in the situation. The Ashen face of Kardinel, drawn in lines of pure agony, told Illya the old man faced the end of his life. Then the heavy wooden doors of the Infirmary burst open as Napoleon and Samuel rushed in, alerted by the cries of alarm.

He looked up into the faces of the three men, tears streaming down his face, he begged, "Please he can't die like this! Can you help him?" Illya reacted instantly, as Napoleon and Samuel drew their Sicæ from the long ropes they both now wore. He knelt beside the old man, laid his right hand on the centre of Kardinel's chest and closed his eyes. Napoleon and Samuel froze in surprise as they both witnessed a radiant golden light expand around Illya then flood along his right arm and burst out in a blaze through Kardinel's chest. The old man's body jolted in the arms in of his assistant, and then little by little color returned to his appearance. Kardinel's eyes fluttered open to look directly into the shimmering blue gaze of Illya's.

"My goodness, I thought I was dead." Kardinel sighed.

"You were." affirmed Illya.

Napoleon and Samuel looked at each other and then back at Illya in astonishment. Illya helped the bewildered assistant to lift Kardinel from the floor and guide him towards the bed that Illya himself had only just occupied.

"No, no, I don't want to lie down. There's nothing wrong with me." Kardinel protested as he was steered towards the bed "Oh, do stop fussing over me boys." he persisted as they sat him summarily on the edge of the bed.

"I do think you should rest a little though Primate." Samuel chimed in as he overcame the surprise he felt.

"Samuel, Napoleon, where on earth did you two come from?" Kardinel asked as he realised for the first time that the two of them stood looking on.

"Ah, well, we were just, coming to visit Sergi," Samuel haltingly explained.

Samuel had known the old Primate for a number of years. Some of the information he had gleaned during his studies into the origins and purpose of the Sicæ come from aged tomes of the holy order of healing he had uncovered. Samuel had discovered them hidden deep below the castle dungeons. He suspected that someone could have relocated them there in comparatively recent times, maybe even in the past few decades. The age of the tomes was incongruous with that of the catacombs, because the practice of storing the remains of the Sicarii in them had stopped many centuries before. It was his curiosity and a sense of adventure that had directed his exploration of them. He had never hoped that he might stumble across the means to solving the puzzle that his research had presented; the tomes had simply been stacked on a shelf next to the skeletal remains of some ancient unnamed monk. He now felt sure that he ought to reveal his discoveries to the old Primate. Kardinel seemed to be in fine shape, in spite of his heart attack and Samuel knew with certainty that he was a man to be trusted in the scheme against the Patrician.

What Samuel and Napoleon had just witnessed in the healing of Kardinel by Illya was both remarkable and unforeseen. Illya, somehow, had been able to draw on the life energy around him and channel it directly into the dying body of Kardinel. Samuel knew the principle of it, but without the Sicæ, it should have been impossible, but then a Triumvirate bonding offered many impossible scenarios in itself. If Illya had been able to draw on the power of the Triumvirate without even coming directly into contact with a Sicæ, it offered a vast potential to each of them.

"Kardinel, if you feel well enough, maybe we should have a private discussion, in your office." Napoleon suggested as he looked from the old Primate to Samuel and Illya for accord.

"Yes," Kardinel replied, "I think we have a few things that do need taking about." An amused grin slowly grew on his face as he spryly hopped up off the bed. Without waiting for the boys, he briskly strode down the corridor towards his office. He had not felt this good in years.

A mischievous glint flashed in Napoleons eyes as a smile played across his face, he looked at Illya, "Don't let me stop you, but you'd best put on some clothes first don't you think." He teased Illya.

"You don't like the emperor's new clothes?" Illya retorted.

Napoleon made no effort to assist him, but continued to take in the delight of Illya's state of undress. Kardinel's young assistant came to his rescue as he coyly handed Illya a robe.

Illya dragged it down over his head sparing a wry smile at his partner, "Better?" he enquired.

"No, your previous suit was more my style." Napoleon smiled as he replied.

"Ah well, I'll have to get you one for your birthday then" Illya's voice dripped with sarcasm as he responded to the not so subtle taunt.

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