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From:

dr_libra_phd

All I remember about the 12th century is that it was before the 13th. (Facepalm) My research may be all wrong. Apologies in advance.

———————————————-
Part 12C
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(Nicolo)

Somewhere outside of Alexandria, 12th century

Yusuf insisted he did not miss the cities.

They took turns riding the horse, moving away from Cairo, avoided Alexandria and found a small fishing village by the coast. Yusuf pointed to their left was Tunis and beyond that his homelands. Which meant Nicolo’s land was across the sea, to his right, beyond the Byzantium isles and the waters where pirates were rumored to lurk.

Nicolo did not point Genoa out. There was no point. He has no ties to the land. His name was paired di Genova for a reason. There was no one there who would grieve for him. It was for the best. There was no one there to be ashamed of him as well.

The village spoke a mix of Greek and lingua franca. They regarded anyone with suspicion whether they looked like Nicolo or Yusuf. Yusuf joked it was refreshing; they share equal portion of the prejudices for once.

There was an abandoned house outside the village, left to woe after the family fled for more prosperous opportunities. It sat next to a stream that fed from a far away river. It was on flat grass where they can see the enemy in all directions.

It was close enough that Nicolo could walk to the village at twilight and throw a net to sea by the time the sun completed its rise. It was far enough away that no one would question why the two men never aged.

Nicolo said offhand as Yusuf repaired the roof (he insisted Nicolo can not help until Yusuf can no longer count his ribs), that it was less than a half a day’s ride to Alexandria. Yusuf agreed that was useful if Yusuf wanted to sell his scrolls in their market. Alexandria was smaller than Cairo, but it boasted a busy port which meant traders.

Yusuf did not suggest going there. Nicolo was glad.

The week passed...quietly. Nicolo felt Yusuf watching him but if Nicolo did not say anything, Yusuf did not press. When Nicolo set up a bedroll closer to the door, Yusuf’s lips pressed together but he did not comment. He built two pallets, deliberately putting his pallet behind Nicolo’s, within reaching distance. He appeared to wait for Nicolo to protest. When Nicolo did not, Yusuf’s shoulders slumped.

“Later” never came up again.

Nicolo sat on a flat stone by the stream, waiting to see if the net Yusuf traded for in the village would yield more fish. Yesterday brought a good catch, enough so that Yusuf rode to the village with a full basket and Nicolo dried a week’s worth under the sun for themselves.

The stream gurgled softly in front of Nicolo. The net floated limp and empty in the water.

Perhaps they should grow something. Or raise a goat? Or a hen? Nicolo’s heart hammered the longer he stared at the net. What if yesterday was all the fish to be caught? What if they can not trade for food?

"You were willing enough to take our coin."

Nicolo drew up his knees. He stared at the net. It was still empty.

Hands grabbed his ears. The object prodded his lower lip, pushing it, exposing his teeth. It oozed into his lower lip. He gagged and it dove in, so quick, he blacked out. When he roused, the object continued to piston deep into his throat.

Nicolo wrapped his arms around his middle. His chin bumped against his knees.

The net was still empty.

It was fine. It will be fine, Nicolo repeated to himself. He bent over his arms, his stomach twisted, churning loudly. He could feel them in his belly, roaring to break free, crawling up from the inside, up his throat, souring his tongue...

Nicolo clamped his lips together. His stomach kept filling with them. No, no, no...

”I also paid you to swallow.”

Nicolo’s breathing quickened, roaring louder and louder in his ears.

The net was still empty.

A sound whined out from the base of Nicolo’s throat. He dropped his forehead onto his knees, his arms wrapping tighter around himself.

“Nicolo?”

His scalp burned as the hand yanked his hair back. His jaw locked, his throat spasm as it tried to fit around the object. It kept coming, it kept filling, they kept sneering, Dirar held it at the base to keep it deep in his throat.

Nicolo’s stomach cramped sharper and sharper. His heart ran faster, a horse charging out into the desert, a horde of murderers at Antioch’s walls, screaming, yelling, blind to everything, he could not breathe, could not bite, could not look away, he...he...

A quiet hum wrapped around Nicolo. It was a tune he did not know, but the voice was familiar. He just...could not grasp at the name.

Nicolo blinked, confused when he discovered he was curled towards...

“...we are fine, you are here, I am here...”

Yusuf has a loose arm around Nicolo’s shoulders, turning Nicolo so his head was tucked against Yusuf’s shoulder.

It turned dark without Nicolo realizing it. Yusuf sat close to Nicolo, but looked straight ahead at the stream. Nicolo raised his eyes towards the waters.

The net was still empty.

“We are fine,” Yusuf murmured when Nicolo made a sound. He reached around Nicolo’s shoulders and tugged Yusuf’s cloak draped over them both.

“You are here,” Yusuf continued. “I am here...we are fine...you ar—“

“All i could offer was me,” Nicolo croaked.

Yusuf quieted.

“My sword, my faith, myself.” Nicolo’s throat worked. “My faith was broken. My sword was sullied. All I have left was me.”

“Dirar knew that was what you believed,” Yusuf said. He rubbed Nicolo’s shoulders after he said Dirar’s name. “He preyed on your kind heart, struck when you were low and made you—“

Nicolo’s breathing hitched.

Yusuf stopped.

“He did not make me,” Nicolo rasped. “He offered. I...I accepted. I was willing.”

“You did not look willing when I was there.” Yusuf exhaled suddenly. “I did not mean to make you remember.”

“You did not.” Nicolo’s arms shrank around his middle. “I can not seem to forget.”

Nicolo’s stomach lurched.

“I...they are still in me.”

Yusuf shook his head. “They are not.”

“I can still taste them. They still coat my belly with—“

“They are not, Nicolo.” Yusuf vibrated against Nicolo. “They...they are gone. It is over. You do not have to do this ever again.”

Yusuf choked. “No, you should not have done this at all. Why? Why, Nicolo? I did not...we did not need...how was I so blind to what he forced you to do?”

Nicolo closed his eyes.

Yusuf sighed. His breathing steadied against Nicolo.

“We are fine. We will rest here. Let them come to us. We will stay here and...be.”

Yusuf settled his chin on top of Nicolo.

“I made food,” Yusuf said softly. “Do you feel like eating?”

Nicolo shook his head.

Yusuf exhaled.

“But,” Nicolo rasped. “I will eat...I will try.”

Yusuf carefully hugged him.

“Thank you, Nicolo,” Yusuf whispered. It felt like Yusuf was thanking him for much more than wasting his food.

Nicolo curled his arms tighter around himself and pretended he was hungry.
———————————-

Tomorrow! I’m going to take a na—Zzzzzzz. LOL.

From: (Anonymous)

My poor boys! They have such a long road ahead of them. Thank you for this story.

From: (Anonymous)

Person from several comments ago about drawing art-- I'm not the best artist but here you go! https://twitter.com/luesi02/status/1315186300081836034

Honestly I think I gotta do part 2, cause the last few chapters are just chef kiss. Thank you for all you do!

From: (Anonymous)

This is wonderful! I get a story and an illustration? Is it Christmas already? 😍

From:

dr_libra_phd

!!!!! This art was amazing! I can’t believe my fill got tweeted too! Oh wow, yes, feel free to draw away! I only wish I have a place to spread the word about your lovely art!

Edited Date: 2020-10-11 11:29 am (UTC)