Rating: PG-13

James sat on his plush cushions, the air around him heavy with heat and the light perfume designed to block out the smell of sweat. It only half succeeded. He leaned back and a scantly clad female offered him a grape. Smiling at her, he shook his head, no.

This dinner had been arranged to diplomatically smooth over some problems between two nomadic tribes. James' home was a neutral area between them, and although he could see the logic for their meeting in his palace, James was unhappy about it being necessary.

A crash of cymbals and the especially-hired, brightly-clad dancing girls emerged from the drapes at the back of the hall. They danced as a well-trained group should, but then separated to allow one dancer to emerge.

She moved with a sensual grace born of experience, the diaphanous, pastel veils entwining her body, emphasizing her curves rather than concealing them, but James could see though the veils to her face and neck where her true age was revealed.

Still, though past her youth, she was enchanting and her audience was enthralled by her skills. She captured them, held them in her power as she moved around the room, swaying towards one man, before dancing away, then towards another, always moving just out of reach as they stretched out to touch her.

Her bangles and sequins glittered and dazzled in the light of a hundred candles as the beat quickened.

James glanced away rather than be blinded by the dizzying display.

Her kohl-lined eyes flashed as she spun around faster and faster, finally collapsing with a choreographed suddenness, her chest heaving as she sought to calm her breathing.

There was a brief moment of silence and then loud applause burst out from her captivated audience. James joined in. She bowed her way out, shuffling her feet, the bells on her ankles tunefully jingling as she left, the other girls following her example, concealing her again as they exited.

More food was brought and James relaxed a fraction. His senses had been under enormous strain, watching and listening to the hot blooded warriors so that he knew when to step in and stop them from killing each other, and he was looking forward to having his palace to himself once more; but good food and entertainment helped calm things down and showed both sides they had common tastes so it would be a while yet before things returned to normal and James could rest.

A young, attractive female edged forward with a pitcher of water and he allowed her to pour him some, handing it off to his food-taster before taking it back and sipping the water. Unfortunately he could taste his taster on the rim of the goblet, but he'd long ago grown accustomed to that, and it was only at moments like this when it made him want to heave. Deprived even of the comfort of a drink and biting back the bile, James signaled his servant to summon the next act.

These were male sword jugglers, belonging to the same troupe as the dancers and both as talented and as attractive. James hadn't been happy about swords being so near to his excitable guests, but it was the kind of entertainment that appealed to these men as much as the beautiful dancers had, and the tribes men seemed drunk enough to be unable to do anything stupid. Still, there was a small risk that the troupe could have an assassin hidden amongst them. James could not afford to be complacent. He had powerful enemies who would love to render him helpless or to see the talks thrown into disarray. He watched the performers very closely as they juggled the curved scimitars, throwing them to each other with great skill.

As with the dancers, the group surrounded one lead entertainer and they parted to allow him to emerge, throwing his three scimitars high and catching them by the hilt -- without cutting himself or dropping one. The applause was loud as another sword was thrown to him and it went up in the air to dance with the others.

James was no longer paying attention to the swords -- he was focused on the star of the troupe. He had the same coloring as, and similar looks to, the dancer, maybe he was her son or brother, but though James had watched and enjoyed her beauty, this young man was breath-takingly exotic to him.

His long auburn curls were clean and shiny, and looked soft as he swung his head around to keep his blue eyes on the razor-sharp swords. Those eyes were outlined in kohl which made the blue seem to stand out even more.

His body -- though smaller than James' -- was sturdy and muscular with dark chest hair that glistened with a light moisture of sweat. James noted the two dusky buds on his chest were pierced with silver rings. Unlike the dancer, he wore no jewel in his navel; however that too was pierced, with a small silver bar. James wondered what else could be pierced.

His legs were covered in a thin, dark material, with his private parts well hidden, yet James could tell the shape within was a pleasing size. His feet were bare and painted with a henna design which added to the erotic image.

His skill with the sword was just as impressive as his looks, and like the woman's bangles, his swords shone and glittered as he moved ever faster.

James took another sip of the water and frowned at the cup in disbelief. The liquid tasted clean and untainted. His eyes were drawn back to the juggler. For some unfathomable reason, James knew this was linked to the young man. What manner of man was this? What magic did he possess?

James' eyes narrowed and he leaned forward, the movement catching the young man's attention.

A sword slipped and a gasp broke out from the watching female beside James. But the entertainer swiftly turned the slip into part of the act as he caught it against his shoulder, balanced it on his raised knee and then threw it back up into the air to catch it and continue juggling.

Only James saw the tiny spot of blood appear on the man's arm.

Their act finished to rapturous applause. The jugglers exited the same way as the dancers, still juggling as they left.

James called his master-of-ceremonies over. "How much did you agree to pay the troupe? Never mind." James changed his mind. "Just bring me what you agreed. I'm sure it was a fair amount. I wish to compliment them myself."

James found he was able to locate the rooms the troupe was given by the sound of a heartbeat and the tang of fresh blood.

He focused in on the young juggler who was carefully dabbing the cut on his bicep with a wet cloth.

"I will have my physic look to that," James said.

All the heads in the room spun around, including that of the juggler.

James hid a smile. He admitted to a malicious streak that enjoyed catching people unawares.

The sword juggler quickly rallied. He bowed, touching the fingers of his right hand to his lips and then to his forehead in a sign of respect. "Thank you, but there is no need, Lord. It is but a scratch."

"Very well." James turned to regard the rest of the troupe. "I came to thank you for your performance. I am hopeful that your skills relaxed my guests enough for these peace talks to be easier." He allowed his servant to hand out the bags of coins as James left the room.

James stood in front of the window, seemingly staring out on his domain, but really thinking furiously. The sword juggler couldn't have hidden any magic talisman within his clothes; James would have seen that -- unless it was one of his pieces of jewelry he wore in the piercing... Something had caused James' senses to relax and settle around the juggler; he really needed to find out what that something was. He needed to keep that young man in the palace, but on what pretext? James could just demand that he stay, but that might make him look weak and the juggler would be suspicious and on his guard. On the other hand, the juggler was attractive, very attractive; he was probably used to having sexual advances made by men of stature. James didn't want there to be any such misunderstandings. Such encounters led to... complications. Bed partners wanting favors, gifts. James had enough of that within his harem! Some of his concubines thought they ruled him! Taking a male lover could be judged as detrimental to his power and James could ill afford any sign of weakness. No, he had to keep this man off balance. First he needed to separate the juggler from his troupe... Deciding on a course of action, James straightened his back and lowered his shoulders.

He called his servant to attend him and James pulled him close. "Put this," James said softly, pulling off one of his rings, "with that sword juggler's property, the curly-haired one, who spoke up. Then have him searched on some pretense so it is found. I want him brought to me after dinner. Make sure you don't harm him. Put him in chains if you have to, but I don't want to see any bruises on his skin. Do I make myself clear?"

If the servant had any problems with his master's orders, he was too well trained to show it. "Yes, Lord. I understand." He bowed low and James returned to his dinner... which now seemed even more tedious and too long.

Finally, when most of his guests had retired and the ones that were too drunk to make it on their own had been helped to bed by servants and friends, James returned to his own private quarters.

He sat down in his throne-like chair and the juggler was immediately brought in, chains around his wrists. He was pushed to the floor at James' feet. James glared at his servant who backed away quickly.

"My Lord, please tell me what I have done wrong! I was never in your close presence to remove the ring, let alone foolish enough to hide it so badly." The juggler knelt up, his hands open, as far as the chains would allow, in supplication.

James felt slightly guilty. He cleared his throat. "I know you didn't take it. I wanted to talk with you."

A crease appeared on the juggler's brow. That was obviously not what he expected. James could almost see him trying not to ask why.

"You have an unusual way of inviting a visitor for a talk," the juggler finally said. "If I am not charged with theft, then perhaps you could release me from these chains?" He held up his hands again.

"I don't think so, not just yet. Tell me," James sat back, "the troupe of entertainers, are they your family?"

Confusion showed even more on the juggler's face. Nevertheless he nodded. "I call them my family, yes."

"Will they leave without you?"

The juggler blinked. "If they are forced to," he said, slowly, "they will leave the palace, but they will stay as close as possible until they know I am safe. Wouldn't your family do the same?"

James ignored that question. "The troupe wouldn't leave, even if they were paid to?"

"My mother would stay, even if the others left, until she knew for sure I would not be returning to her."

He was brave, James decided, defiant even. He could hear the young man's heart beating wildly, but outwardly he appeared calm and relaxed. Such bravery deserved a reward.

"Bring a stool for my guest," James ordered his waiting servant.

"May I ask that my family be told I am not charged with theft? It would stop them being upset and worried."

And stop them from causing trouble, James thought. He nodded to his servant. "And take them some food, also have some brought here."

James' servants knew to carry out his instructions with haste and the juggler was soon sitting on a stool.

"Tell me your name, juggler."

Fruit had been brought in and the young man wiped the juice away from his mouth with the back of his hand. "Blair. My mother traveled a lot and she liked the sound of that name," he explained. "Lord, why did you seek me out to talk to? And why in such a manner? Where I come from, a simple invite is sufficient."

James stood. "I have a... gift. Sometimes this gift is a curse." He walked slowly around Blair, pleased when he realized the wild heartbeat seemed to be linked with the air of arousal, doubly pleased as the juggler held himself very still.

James took a deep breath. "You smell very good."

"Do I?" Blair's voice was slightly higher than before and he coughed to clear his throat.

"Tell me, do you have a wife?" James asked, leaning in even more.

"No. Many people have tried to find me one. Do you?"

"I have many concubines." James watched the light dance in Blair's curly hair. "Why have you never married one of those found for you?"

"I never wanted to marry any of them. What form is your gift?"

"I can hear your heartbeat," James whispered in Blair's ear and moved back as Blair's head spun around.

"My scent... my heartbeat... is your gift to do with your senses? How many of them? Are they acute?"

James was taken aback enough to answer truthfully. "They are all too strong. They drive me mad, but around you, they seem calm, yet... more alive. What are you, juggler? A sorcerer? A wizard? A witch? What magic do you possess?"

"Many have called me worse, but I am ordinary. I have no magic skills, only juggling ones. Nor do I own a magic talisman. But you... if all your senses are superior, you would be amazing, extraordinary!"

James frowned. He stalked back to his chair, wondering why the conversation had not gone the way he thought. "I am a freak of nature. I eat bland food; can only wear the most expensive silk. Smells make me vomit and sounds..."

Blair looked puzzled. "You said I calm your senses. What is it about me that does that? My voice? No," he corrected himself. "You didn't hear me speak until you appeared in the changing room. Is it the way I look? The way I smell?"

"I don't know. Something about you... even now I find myself reaching out with all my wits towards you..."

Suddenly James found Blair's body was so close as to be breathing the same air.

Blair pulled back a little. "You had me worried, Lord. You no longer heard me; it was as if you were asleep with your eyes open."

"It happens." James blinked against the brightness of the room and sighed. "I become lost in a hollow numbness. How long was I out?"

"A few seconds, no more."

"That was quicker than usual. What did you do?"

"I just spoke to you; I... touched your face, like this."

It was more of a caress than a simple touch and it sent shivers of excitement through James' body.

Blair had still not moved back to his seat and James suddenly noticed Blair's hands were free. "How did you release yourself from the chains?" he demanded.

"Oh, another little trick. Again, no magic, just a useful trick."

"You could have undone them at any time?" James asked, incredulously.

Blair shrugged. "I had no need to, no wish to."

"How is it you knew what to do about my loss of time?"

"Long ago, I met an infidel, an explorer. He wanted to know if I'd heard of a certain rope trick. I said I hadn't, but I showed him what tricks I did know, and he told me tales of men from far over the sea, special men, Sentinels, he called them, men able to hear more, see more, smell scents more acutely, men with more powerful senses than normal men, men able to protect their people from attack, able to hunt game better and sniff out water. In return, I shared with him some of our tales. He liked the exotic ones best." Blair winked. He was staring at James' mouth, he licked his lips...

And then their words seem to dry up and their mouths drew together with the inevitability of sand in the desert.

James found himself pushed right back against his chair as Blair straddled his thighs. His hands pulled Blair to him, caressing the bare skin that seemed so smooth and hot.

Blair's mouth moved to James' ear. "I've wanted to do that since I saw you noticing me at the dinner."

James groaned as the juggler's tongue licked his chin.

"Does my tongue excite you more than the touch of your concubines? I could teach you to enjoy your senses, Lord, if you let me." Blair's voice was husky and seductive.

James felt overwhelmed with desire for this man. His body screamed at him to give in and take this juggler and make him James' own. But Blair was an entertainer. He would, unless incarcerated, move on with his troupe, leaving James alone again. James gripped the juggler's shoulders, leaving red finger marks there.

"No! I said talk and that is what I meant." He managed to hold Blair away from him.

"Talk?" Blair's eyes slowly refocused. "Talk! We have been talking, or haven't you noticed. We have done little except talk! You drive me out of my mind with the want of you, and you say you want to talk?" His voice became soft again. "There are much better things we could do instead of talking. Why do you resist this attraction between us?"

James gently pushed Blair back further, holding on when the young man swayed, unsteady on his feet, until he had his balance. "I need to understand why is it I heard your heartbeat and could smell the blood from your cut all the way out in the corridor? Why do you, and no one else, call out to me?"

Blair sat down again on the stool. He looked at James in bewilderment. "Lord, I am nothing, a simple juggler."

"I don't believe you are that simple. You can read, write?"

"Yes," Blair nodded. "It is necessary to keep from being cheated of what is yours, and I earn money by reading and writing for those without that ability."

"Then I ask again, why you?"

Blair fidgeted on his stool. "I can think of one reason, but you will not like it, Lord."

"If you are holding something back..."

"This infidel I spoke of?" Blair said, quickly. "He told me that these special men, they have a companion, someone who guards the guardian when he has one of these spells of time loss. He suggested they were more than just friends. Perhaps fate has drawn us together."

"You are jesting with me, juggler."

Blair spread his hands in a gesture of innocence. "You have me at your disposal, Lord. Why would I lie to you?"

"To use your body to gain control over me."

"It is you, Lord, who can control me. You can throw me into a deep hole, or into the streets. You can throw me to your men, or just send me and my troupe away. You have all the power here. While it is true I do want you, you seem very capable of holding me at arm's length. I only tell you what I have been told." He hesitated. "Would you tell me something?"

James waited.

"Tell me you don't want me."

"I have women to fulfill my physical needs."

"Tell me you don't want me."

"I don't want you."

"Liar!"

James' eyes flashed in anger. "You dare to call me, Sultan of all Cascade, a liar?"

"I dare." Blair stood.

James could feel the heat of passion emanating from Blair.

"I say again, liar. I see it in your eyes. I felt it in your body. I hear it when I hear you breathe. You want me, oh Sultan of Cascade, as much as I want you. So why fight it? I am willing. It would be pleasurable for us both, I can promise you that. There is no surrender, no measure of weakness; only a degree of giving and receiving."

"So you are one of these sentinels now?" James scoffed nervously.

"No, but I pay attention. I'm very good at observing people."

James ignored the comment. "And after?"

"After?"

"After you have shared such pleasure."

"You give my troupe, and me, our freedom. We part the best of friends with good memories."

Blair saw James tense up at his words and his eyes widened. "That's it, isn't it? You fear once I am free to leave I will never return."

"What is there to hold you? You came into my palace a free man, in so much as any man is free under Allah. I have chains and men to hold you here, but I cannot hold your will."

Blair allowed a gasp of air to pass his lips. "Let me be sure of what you ask, Lord. You want not only my body, not just my willingness, you want my heart also?"

James stared. He took in the figure before him, so still, so intense. Did he want that from this man? Truth be told, he'd already told Blair more about himself than any other man knew. If he asked this juggler for his trust, could James do any other than offer his in turn? He leaned forward.

"Any man who stands by my side is open to attack by my enemies and by those who would be jealous of his place there. But I would promise my protection... and my heart. For all the riches I possess, nothing is so well guarded as that."

"And you would trust me with such a precious treasure?"

James sat back. "That depends on you, juggler."

"We only met a short time ago, Lord, how can I answer that?"

"I suggest a bargain; you stay for a week, just one week. I will give you space in my room, portioned off so that you have your own privacy, and you decide what you feel. At the end of that time, you are free to leave or stay."

"And my troupe?"

"They can stay outside the palace, you can see them whenever you wish, but for much of the time, you stay with me. You will have a pass with my seal upon it. This will allow you to come and go as you please as long as you return. I don't want to have to hunt you down."

Blair considered. "Do you allow your concubines such concessions?"

"If I allowed my concubines to return to their families, it would be assumed they had displeased me, and their fathers or brothers would beat them. Here they have more freedom than most females. And I am not asking you to be a member of my harem."

"I admit I find you and your offer attractive." Blair replied, slowly. "But one week is not long to decide one's future."

"Marriages have been arranged in less time. War has been declared in less time." James paused. He wasn't sure why he was so desperate to have this man stay, but he was. "One other condition, although we will touch, there will be no physical intimacy between us during that week. You may touch me to bring me out of one of the grey spells I endure. I may touch you to get your attention or to help me with control of these senses, but there will be nothing sexual about those touches. Do you understand?"

Blair's eyes had widened as James was talking. "You mean to flaunt that body of yours in front of me and I cannot take advantage of it?"

James couldn't help but grin. "One week, juggler, and the situation will be a test for both of us."

"Very well, but I make a request; allow me one more kiss, a final kiss before we begin. I need to be sure of what I am getting myself into."

James stood and stepped down with a feline grace to where Blair sat; forcing the juggler to look up, then James bent his head and kissed Blair on the forehead. He wasn't quick enough to move away and Blair grabbed his head and pulled him into a passionate kiss, demanding entrance to James' mouth and claiming him. James pulled away as he began to over-balance.

"I agree," said Blair, licking his lips slowly. "If it pleases you, Lord James, I will go and tell my family that I will be staying awhile."

James nodded, distractedly, wondering just when he lost control of this encounter.

A loud noise woke Jim with a start. He looked to where his lover was bending to pick something up from the floor.

Blair straightened the book that had fallen from the bed in his hands. "Arabian Nights, Jim? Ah, it's Burton's adult translation; that explains a lot." His eyes twinkled. "But I thought you decided you didn't want to read any more Burton?"

Jim moved over as Blair climbed onto their bed.

"I wanted to stay awake until you got back from your convention, but I guess the week caught up with me," Jim explained. "And it isn't all bad. You know your Burton, there's a lot of sexual fantasy material in there." Jim leered at his lover.

"Oh?"

Jim stretched out, pulling Blair close up against him.

"What kind of fantasy?" Blair nibbled at Jim's ear.

Jim, stifling a groan of pleasure, smiled seductively. "It's easier to demonstrate than to explain, but think of me as the Sultan of Cascade and you as my captive," he said, and proceeded to show Blair exactly what he meant...