Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Alec and Glen 2 Disclaimer: This is a story involving adult situations. 
So, if sex, violence and the occasional drug is offensive to you, or you
are under the age of eighteen, stop reading now and save us all some time.
--UMThis is chapter two of a full length book.  [That means that it is the
start of a twisted little romance/sci-fi story and has vast areas with no
sex in it.] If you are interested in reading it, great.  If not, I warned
you it would be long and drawn out.



   After the very exciting swill and a brisk walk to satisfy a throbbing in
his groin, Alec decided to check on that odd boy, since he had not seen him
at dinner.  Alec crossed the mud court and entered the stable.  It was dark
and quiet as he walked past the horses and cows.  He heard a gasp come from
the upper room.  He strained to hear and waited for the sound to repeat. 
There it was again.  A definite gasp of pain.  The boy had really been
hurt. Alec knew he would not admit the injury out of fear.  Alec decided to
surprise the lad with his news.  He stealthily went up the stairs and
pushed open the door.  Alec was greeted by a rounded shoulder and a flash
of a breast.  He spun around quickly.

   "Please, sir, don't give me away!  I'll do anything," a girl's voice
shocked him further.

   Alec didn't turn to look at her.  She'd had no time to cover herself. 
It all seemed to fit.  Samuel had never had a girl caretaker and showed his
confusion.  She tried to move before him, but he turned away.

   "Sir.  If my master finds out, I don't know what he'll do!  If you tell
him, I will be killed or worse.  I've money!  You can have it all!  Just be
gone before morning light!"

   For a moment, he thought she was offering him her body.  It lowered his
ego a bit, but he recovered quickly.  He turned to see her shrouded by a
blanket and holding out a purse.  A mere two to three silver at a glance.
He waved away the purse and looked her squarely in the eye.  Glen was older
than sixteen.  Her gaze was steady.  He laughed to himself for a moment. 
She frowned at his humor.

   "I was to take you with me.  The innkeeper gave you to me."

   She hesitated for a moment, then said, "That evil backstabbing..... 
Then take me with you.  I won't be any trouble.  You could leave me off at
the convent..."

   "You can't come with me.  I'm on my way home.  I've no reason to take
you now."

   "They'll know by sun up that I'm not a boy.  I can't strap myself down
with the swelling.  If you do not take me with you my blood will be on your
hands."

   Alec decided he'd had enough of this nonsense.  Honestly, death wouldn't
be one of Meta's options for her.  He straightened himself to full height
and shifted his belt and sword.  He turned and left with a dismissive toss
of the head.  She grabbed his wrist with a firm grip and tugged gently on
him.

   "At the least, before you go.  You could help me," she pleaded, "Lay
with me, that it won't be sold to the highest bidder."

   He pulled his arm away and looked to see if what she said was true.  He
didn't think she even liked him.  She obviously didn't.

   "You want me to take what is your husband's right?"

   "I will have no husband.  I have no family.  The master will sell me to
the town.  Please, you need to..."

   "I will not do this," he pushed her away.

   "Am I no better than the usual fare?  If they're easy to bed, I
certainly will give you no fight.  Only do me what I need done!"

   "Why me?"

   "You are gentle with your horse.  I only assumed..."

   "I would be gentle with you," he finished for her softly.

   She dropped the blanket to reveal her top naked form.  He quickly
snatched the blanket off of the ground.  He wrapped her up and carried her
back into the room.  He scanned the stairway and the other end of the hall
before quietly shutting the door behind them.  She shivered in his arms. 
He released her.

   "Do you want someone to see you?" He protested.

   "Will you or won't you?  Just say you will, and let us get this over
with.  Then you can be on your way."

   "If I were any other man, it would be done by now.  Find yourself lucky
and call this a night."

   "I see," she resigned herself.  "I bid you good journey, sir."

   She'd dismissed him as if he had been the bad one.  As he walked through
the darkened trees, he thought about what he should do.  Her voice had been
so cold.  He knew he'd regret it, but after a drink and a long walk, he
would take her to the convent.

   *

   Glen tossed down her money pouch and forced the tears to stay where they
were.  Once, she could withstand tremendous pain without a single shudder.
Meta had taught her to.  It had become harder and harder since her change.
Every year that she gave blood made her feel weaker.  The poor food and
hard work had stalled puberty until she'd turned 15, but after that, the
breasts and the hips had made things nearly impossible.  When that horse
struck her square in the nipple, she nearly dropped to the ground.  It was
too much for the tender flesh to absorb.  She looked down at the purpled
breast and tried again to strap it down to her ribs.  It was no use.  She
would have to leave before the evening check.  All these years, she'd been
so careful.  What was that noise?  *

   The walk had taken longer than he'd expected.  When Alec returned to the
stable, he noticed Glen's door was open.  He went up and looked in.  It was
gone through.  Every box and trunk was opened and the contents strewn about
the room.  Her shirt was still on the bed, where she had taken it off to
tend her wound.  He heard muffled laughter come from The Manger.  He
gathered himself and slowly went to investigate.  The crowd encircled some
curiosity in the center of the room.  He was too far away to judge.  Meta
looked up and waved him in.

   "Ah, Master Alec.  I'm afraid I can't send our Glen off with you.  He's
gone missing.  In his stead," the fat man sneered as he pulled Glen up to
stand, "a woman!"

   The farmers and passers-on milled about in anticipation.  She was
covered in a simple shift too short for her long legs.  Alec hadn't noticed
how much taller she was compared to the other women.  She stood up straight
for the first time in public.  She was a tall wiry girl to Alec.  Maybe,
she was sixteen.  Probably not.  She had been cleaned and dressed by
someone else.  A woman, Gwena, stood off to the side.  She was wringing her
hands as the mostly drunken group passed Glen, like a rag doll, from person
to person.  Alec nodded to the older woman and Gwena rushed over to him. 
Glen fell into the lap of another man and he pinched her arm.  She shrieked
as he pushed her along to some one else.

   "Can you do nothing?  They mean to bid on her next."

   The woman's wisp of gray hair accented her still youthful face.  She
clasped his arm in entreaty.

   "Have you money?  I'm heading home.  My money is for debts, mostly."
Alec watched as yet another man put his hand on the girl's bottom.

   "I'll repay you.  She's like my own child." Her hand moved to his chest
to keep his attention.

   "The master doesn't think so," he calmly tested.

   "That cur would sell himself out if anyone would have him.  She may not
be blood, but I'll give ye all I've got and send more after ya besides."

   It finally hit him.  The old woman had to help the girl hide her cycles.
Without help, she would have been found out at puberty.

   "You knew about her."

   "Who do you think talked Meta into giving her to you.  I knew you'd be
honorable and give her safe passage.  Now, she'll stay here!  You can still
take her, if you ask for her.  Please!  Take her to the convent at Jagged
Cove.  They are pious and will take her for her reading skills."

   Glen, who had no family, could read.  Alec showed his curiosity.

   "Afore my man, her father, died," the old woman explained, "he taught
her the letters.  She can read better than some of the merchants that come
round.  If she ends up on her back, it'd be a waste.  Our Glen deserves
more."

   Alec reassuringly patted her hand.  The longer Glen was a woman, the
more unusual she became.  He could at the least get her to the convent.  He
would have to give up his loot from the war.  Part of it, anyway.  He
stepped through the mob and took her by the wrist.  Meta made a challenging
sound in the back of his throat as Alec calmly led her to the kitchen. 
Meta followed closely.

   "What mean you by this, Alec.  She's to be bid on."

   "How much, innkeep?"

   Alec's eyes held hers.  She hadn't had a chance to notice how
transparent gray they were.  He studied her face to make sure they hadn't
tossed her about too much.

   "For the privilege of being her first?  That's a pretty penny," the
grotesquely fat man grinned.

   A brief flash of fear on Glen's face was quickly covered.  He didn't
look over at Meta.  He willed her to stay calm.  He guided her to lean on
the table.

   "That she freely offered me this even."

   Meta slammed down a fist with a laugh and huffed, "I checked her myself.
She's been untouched."

   The fat man was really going to put her to work.

   "I want her to go with me, now.  I will pay you what you ask, but it
should be fair."

   The grin grew wider.  "You don't have enough to buy a whore out."

   "She is no whore.  How much, innkeep?"

   "100 silver kess.  No less would she have been bid for tonight.  I say
doubling the figure would be fair."

   Alec finally looked at the older man.  The fool.  He could have gotten
triple that for a virgin so old in Becca.

   "I'll give you 300, and I'll take one of your horses."

   Meta scoffed, "You can't be serious!  You haven't that kind of money."

   Alec reached into his shirt and pulled out a sack.  He dropped it with a
hefty thud to the table.  The strap loosened to show glistening circles of
silver coin.  The kess were well printed and not a one was cut for change.
Meta ran a finger through the pile.

   "A good deal, kind sir," was all he said before he packed the money back
into the sack and stashed it away in his tunic.

   "You can take her tomorrow, but she'll be bid tonight.  I'll get the
money that's coming to me."

   The man was cold and shrewd.  Alec held on to her wrist to stop him from
pulling her back out to the room.

   "How much?" Alec almost growled at the man.

   "Oh no, my lad.  She'll be bid upon fair and square."

   Following a piercing whistle, the innkeeper's larger friends entered the
room.  Glen tried to protest, Meta slapped her ear, and she walked away
quietly.  She wouldn't be worth any thing , if he didn't bid on her.  Meta
knew Alec would try to bid but, with all of his money given away, not win.
Meta started the bid at five silver.  The bidding quickly rose to 75.  Alec
kept his cool.  He had plenty more where that 300 came from.  If the greedy
old windbag knew how much money, he'd have had a heart attack.  The farmers
gave way to the merchants and bards.  The bards quickly gave up as the
bidding went to 200 silver kess.  The merchants kept adding five and ten
lots until she was worth 275 and a new set of plates between two men.  The
next man upped it to 325 with the plates and a shipment of spirits.  Alec
couldn't wait much longer.  Meta's hand was reaching out to take all of
their purses.

   "Five hundred newly minted uncut silver kess!  And I won't tell them how
you swindled me out of three hundred before the bid."

   Alec held up the bag.  Meta's mouth watered.  The bag disappeared into
Alec's coat.

   "Not until the horses are saddled."

   "I'll get your room ready," Meta's grin was weary.

   Alec pulled a dust cloak from a chair and covered her shoulders with it.
She seemed genuinely relieved.  He took her out to the little room off the
tack room.  He spoke quietly to not frighten her more than she'd already
been.  His instructions were brief.  Pack what can be used.  They quietly
packed up any memory that wasn't broken or stained beyond repair.  She
hadn't much but a small box.  She changed into a shirt and made a skirt out
of the loose tunic Meta had tossed onto her.  She'd never really used her
waist.  The string she'd used ground the skin over her hips.  She hadn't
noticed him leave.  Politeness was very important to him.  What would
happen now?  She didn't know this man.  He could kill her on the road. 
Alec went to tend to Samuel.  His welcoming rumble softened the man's
anxiety.  She was so strong.  His sister would understand why he spent part
of his commission.  There was plenty left, but he would have to get a place
of his own.  Alec's sister, Amanda, had a family now.  He would be in the
way, and he was bringing some girl with him.  He waited long enough for her
to be dressed again, and went in to take the case to his room.  On his way
back, Meta caught up with his stride.

   "Mighty tall, now.  Going back to your world?"

   Alec stopped in mid-stride.  "What?"

   "You're a tech, are you not?  You folk come down to see how the other
half lives."

   "I did live in Becca for a time, but I'm just a person.  I've come back
from service down in Dezel.  The lizards are pretty thick in that area."

   "A price per foot they say.  You must've gotten a big one to come back
with such spoils."

   Alec put a hand over his dagger to hide the jeweled scabbard on his hip.
It was the symbol of his rank, and a source of many a brawl.

   "I've been there for a time.  I've killed more than one."

   "You don't brag.  Most feel the need," Meta inquisitively observed.

   "Most judges don`t."

   "Your hair is shorn.  You've gone against the law."

   Alec walked away.  He didn't want to get into a debate.

   "You're a thief of a sort and I'll find out," Meta called after him.

   The young man felt the scar on the side of his scalp near his right ear.
The mid length hair would grow back, and he could read the books still.  A
judge had to have shoulder length hair.  The people would accept it no
other way.  A commitment to religion was made in symbol to the community.
Judges held no privilege.  They were the peace keepers.  The girl would
make a good judge, if she was chosen.  She could already read.  Some of the
candidates took years to learn to read the book.  It was never written, in
the book that a judge should have long hair.  `I guess they were trying to
take from Samson and Delilah.' Alec smoothed his hair back down , and went
back to Glen's room.  He found her in the stable readying Samuel for the
morning.  A partial ration of grain and a carrot smuggled from the root
cellar filled the bucket.  She took good care of the stallion, and after
his initial uncertainty, he gave her the affection she deserved.  The horse
nibbled her shirt.  In response, she gave him a shove and a pat on the neck
before she closed the hay rack and left the stall.  She was softer when she
whispered a soothing good-bye to all of the animals in turn.  She looked up
at Alec in the doorway and the harshness quickly returned.  She nodded to
him and straightened her skirt.

   "No need to be formal.  We leave at dawn.  If you would feel safer, I
can have Meta prepare another bed." Alec tried not to be nervous, but he
feared his words came out discourteously.  He had to get back into practice
sometime.

   She got her coat off of a peg and swiftly covered herself from the cold
outside.  Alec accompanied her to the inn.  He dared not touch her.  After
she had offered herself to him, it felt awkward to do the usual
affectations of custom.  He opened the door for her and she paused to allow
him through.  They looked at each other for a moment.  Alec finally waved
her into the room.  She was a girl, now.  She would have to get used to it.
Meta pretended to ignore her presence.  She knew his anger still raged. 
Glen hugged Gwena and offered to help her in the kitchen.

   "Nonsense!" Meta had been listening.  "You are to be with the man that
bought you.  As a matter of fact, I would be happy to hear you and your
guest as I pass by the room."

   Glen moved away from her surrogate mother and nearly tripped over her
skirt.  Meta gripped her arm and pulled her upright.  The grasp tightened
until he drew a gasp from her.

   Pushing her toward the rooms, he said, "You're a woman now.  Or soon
will be.  You must act it."

   Strengthened by his contempt, Glen raised to her full height and
glowered down at her former master.  He did not back away, but gestured
toward the rooms.  She went to the room she had given to Alec the day
before.  It was empty.  She looked to the prince room.  The room was called
the prince room because Meta made most of his money from robbing the guests
when they slept.  There was a special way for Meta's henchmen to get to the
spoils in this room.  The fat man could take Alec's clothing along with any
gold or silver in the room.  Glen's box was on a small table by the bed. 
She had put a lock of her father's hair, a golden infant ring and an
elaborately braided belt.  Her father said they belonged to her.  She would
smooth the ring in her hand and imagine what her real parents looked like.
Alec entered the room quietly.  She put the ring away and set the box down.
She motioned for him to be quiet and pointed to the trap door.  She caught
the latch and pulled it open.

   "Help me with the bed," he whispered.

   She lowered the door without a sound and went to the side of the bed. 
They both pushed the bed so that a leg rested over the latch.  The judge
sat down on his side of the bed.  She sat down next to him.

   "This will be hard.  We'll have to keep him out of the room, or convince
him he won't want to look in."

   "What do you suggest?"

   He thought for a moment.  His mind went blank.  She pulled at a patch of
hair behind her ear.  He took her hand and stroked her wrist.

   "I must borrow your clothes," he tried.  "It's for the floor.  I'll give
you a gift I brought to wear."

   He gave her a dress and one of his shirts.  He turned away from her to
allow her to change clothes.  As he heard the fabric rustle a thought came
to him.  He dropped his pants and an over-shirt.  This exposed his legs and
a loose outline of his torso.  Glen caught a glimpse of him and turned to
see a well healed, large gash that went from the back of his knee up above
the hem of his shirt.  A knock came to the door.  He didn't limp to the
door.  It was such a massive wound.  Alec opened the door and confronted a
person on the other side.

   "You've not wasted any time," Meta's fake amiability wafted in.

   "I was just..." Alec flustered.

   "She's not giving you any trouble?  I can fix it."

   "We'll just take some food in here.  I don't think we'll be going out
for some time."

   "I can bring some wine as well."

   "I do not drink." There was no compromise in Alec's tone.

   A man that does not drink.  Glen took closer stock of him.  He was kind,
even to stablehands.  He was slow to anger.  He had a great wound as if
he'd been in some battle.  Not a hand had ever gone out where it's not
supposed to go.  He wasn't shy around women, yet he didn't look her in the
eye anymore.

   "Ah, yes.  You said you were religious.  I'll bring you cider."

   Alec closed the door.  He turned to look at her.  The shade of rose was
complimentary to her sun starved skin.  The oversized thing made her look
smaller.  She shrank from his gaze.

   Alec ran a hand through his black hair and breathed, "You look
beautiful."

   Her ankles flashed provocatively at him though the dress hadn't been
trimmed.

   "Uh, thank you." She cowered from his tone of voice.

   A deafening pause dared her to say anything.  He just stood there and
assessed her.  She finally took in a breath and asked, "You are religious?"

   "I am a judge." He stopped her before she asked him, "I was in the south
fighting for a boundary.  No sense in going any further."

   "You were hurt."

   "Come here," Alec entreated.

   She gave no emotion away, but arched her shoulders forward.  Alec sat
down on the bed.

   "I won't hurt you.  I want to show you something."

   After a few more requests, she walked over to him.  He took her hand and
placed it onto his head wound.  Her fingers were soft and gentle on his
scalp.  His eyes closed slightly as he imagined another woman's hands on
his head.  She followed the wound down to his neck and brushed his earlobe
with the side of her hand.  She pulled away.  The jet black hair was soft
and inviting.

   "I'm just fine.  My mind is sound." Alec chose to soothe, "I've not lost
any of my faculties.  It just hurt."

   She wasted no time in asking, "and your leg?"

   "I fell from a tree when I was a young child.  It wasn't as bad as it
looks.  You should see my brother.  He had to be flown to Becca."

   "I'm sorry," she apologized.  "I should not have asked." She was
considerate.  He enjoyed the sound of her real voice.  It was precise and
smooth.

   "How are your ribs?" He'd almost forgotten her injury.

   "They will be fine."

   The hard silence covered them again.  She settled into a contemplation
of her prospects.  Glen's age would be an obstacle.  She was well beyond
the usual age of marriage.  Being coarse, opinionated, and literate
decreased her chances beyond thought.  Alec, a judge and healthy, could
take a wife from anywhere.  Once his hair grew back, his impressive size
and gentility would draw a woman to him.  Even now, Glen hoped to run her
hand through his hair again.  She shook off the thought as he smoothed
where her fingers had been.

   Meta returned with the food.  After a brief, quiet exchange, Alec
brought a plate of cheese, pears, a fowl leg, and a bunch of grapes.  The
food was expensive in the waste country.  In his other hand was a pitcher
of cider.  The warm spices reminded her she hadn't eaten for the whole day.
They ate quickly and heated the bedwarmers with the now glowing embers of
the fireplace.

   They didn't speak.  The sheets were warmed and she slid fully clothed
into bed.  He pulled back on his pants and settled in next to her.  The
room had been secured.  The door was braced and they would sleep on the
trap door.  The light slowly faded as the fire died.  Alec watched her ribs
rise and fall as she slept.  As his eyes adjusted to the low light, he
watched a pair of feet walk back and forth in front of the door.  Now, this
confirmed he would not sleep.  His body began to feel like lead.  The food.
It didn't taste bad.  The cider possibly held the drug.  His eyes drooped.
Through all of the injuries, they had been honest with him about the
medication he was given.  This was definitely crushed up pills.  He tested
the cider and it wasn't sour or gone bad.  Perhaps, stress played a hand in
this drowsiness.  He gave in to the soft warmth of Glen's body next to him.
It was a comfort he would want again someday.  Another body should be
right.

   End...  To be Continued...

   Copyright UM 2004-- Do not copy or redistribute unless for personal
individual use-