Warlord

Chapter Three

Namiashi Raidou paced as the first rays of sunlight started to peek over the horizon. He had no idea what he should do. For as long as he could remember he had been roused, albeit unwillingly, well before dawn by the restless warlord, eager to train before the seemingly unending stream of petty details that were the reality of his position demanded his full attention.

Over fifteen years, the general thought as he paced, and he’s never missed a single day. Should I wake him? he mused, then shuddered at the thought of how this could end up. If I wake him and he doesn’t want me to . . . he gulped at the vision his brain supplied and hurried on to the next choice. Okay, so I let him wake on his own . . . but then he’s certain to miss something important.

The heavily scarred man rubbed the back of his neck and tried to push down his rising panic. Today was not a good day to die, in his opinion. Just as he was debating the possible advantages of doing some long range reconnaissance he caught the sound of movement inside the tent. Thank the gods, he thought as he pulled the flap open and stepped inside calling out “Hey Kaka . . .” before stopping dead and trailing off into a strangled squeak.

Oh my god this is SO bad, was the only thought his brain could manage. The great warlord Hatake was directly in front of him, sprawled gracefully in a camp chair, naked as the day he was born, strong arms holding an equally naked squirming body in his lap.

Shit, shit, shit Raidou’s internal monologue continued, I forgot about his new toy, shit, shit, shit.

“Morning Rai.” the familiar voice drawled before the general could organize his thoughts and flee. “What brings you here this morning?”

“Ummm,” the usually stoic man stuttered, “Uh, ummm, training?” his eyes flitting around the tent, pointedly not looking at the man he was speaking to. Raidou had to admit that his commander was attractive. And, while he’d never before been excited by men, he found himself hardening at the picture the two made. Great, just great, he despaired, even as he turned away and began thinking of every repulsive thing he could, desperate to quell his growing arousal before it was noticed. He had no idea how Kakashi would react . . . and he damn well didn’t want to find out.

. . .ing today.” the warlord’s deep commanding voice broke through the fog that was his general’s thoughts.

“Huh?” Raidou responded, turning back to face his commander instinctively, thoughts derailed yet again when he realized the man had made no move to cover himself.

“I said, we’ll have to skip training today. Iruka and I were just getting ready to discuss his duties. Go grab some breakfast, I’ll be along in a bit.”

Raidou, unfortunately, had once again zoned out at the mention of the slave’s duties, his brain eagerly supplying him with a whole host of surprisingly erotic images. He gave a small whimper and fled as his arousal once again stirred to life.

“I wonder what his problem is?” Kakashi mused.

The tutor almost rolled his eyes, can he possibly be that naive? he wondered, certainly he must know how this looks. “I believe he was embarrassed master.” Iruka replied, still trying to free himself from the large man’s arms. “Unless it’s usual for him to find you like this.” he wryly concluded.

“No, I usually have to wake him for morning training.” he continued pondering the general’s behavior, still not seeing the reason for his sudden departure. He shook his head, it didn’t matter anyway, he was just getting distracted. What was it he needed to do . . . “Ah, yes, your duties Iruka.” he smoothly continued, “I must admit I hadn’t really thought things through when I bought you . . . some of my comrades were trying to convince me to get a pleasure slave, but they seemed like so much trouble . . . then I saw you sitting with the scribes and you looked much more . . . interesting.”

Here the warlord stopped for a moment, grasping the tutor’s chin in his hand and gazing into his eyes, debating his next words. “I was thinking,” he continued with a rather distant look, “that you could assist me with my paperwork. It is . . . difficult for me. My education ended when my father fell in battle and I took his place. I was eleven. You will teach me what you know so that I will be able to lead men . . . not just soldiers.”

“Certainly master,” Iruka replied, “it will be my pleasure to assist you in any way possible.”

“About last night,” Kakashi continued almost hesitantly, “why did you . . .” he fumbled for words as he gestured towards his lap, “not that it wasn’t enjoyable . . . I’ve never bothered with such things . . . I was shocked by how much I liked it, but I never expected it from a scribe . . . is it usual behavior among educated men?”

“I was told I was to be your new pleasure slave master.” Iruka said softly, “I was merely trying to anticipate your desires and please you.”

“Really.” the warlord said coldly, “You think you know my mind slave?”

“No . . . no master,” the tutor stuttered, “I . . . I . . .” He was struck dumb by fear, desperately trying to figure out the correct answer to avoid punishment, panicking at how quickly the atmosphere in the tent had turned deadly.

Iruka opened his mouth to say something, anything . . .but all that came out was a strangled squeak as his fear overwhelmed him and the dam broke. “I’m not a pleasure slave, I’m not, I’ve worked so hard to avoid that and, and they promised I would be sold as a scribe or a tutor and when he said I was to be your toy I tried to think of the easiest way out, before you had a chance to make me do something worse.” he finished with a choked sob, a few tears trailing down his cheeks.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when that strong hand grasped his chin again, forcing his head up to meet Kakashi’s gaze, and a shudder ran down his spine at the unreadable look in those sharply focused mismatched eyes. “You manipulated me, didn’t you Iruka?” that deep voice practically sparkled with mirth and moments later the imposing warlord doubled over in laughter, frightening the slave still trapped on his lap even further.

“You have spirit Iruka . . . I like that. I also liked what we did last night . . . I’d like to do that again, but I will not force you. Now,” he said as he rose and set the tutor on his feet, “it is far past time to begin the day . . . dress and we will get something to eat.” The warlord turned and began pulling on his clothes before continuing. “By the way . . . who was it exactly that called you my toy?”

“I do not know his name master, it was one of the men that purchased me. He was very tall. You’re all very tall.” he muttered the last almost sulkily.

“Anything else?” Kakashi asked, thoroughly enjoying the play of emotions on the tutor’s face.

“He was bald, and he had a scar here.” Iruka said as he traced a crooked path down the side of his face.

“Aaa.” was the enigmatic response.

The slave turned to see his master fully dressed and ready for the day, his expression unreadable. “Come Iruka.” he said shortly as he threw the flap open and strode out of the tent, the tutor scrambling to keep up.

As they passed through the compound Iruka was impressed to see the deference shown to his master, and pleased to see that he knew his men and greeted them familiarly. He was looking forward to instructing this man. At the same time he had a running monologue going in his head, chastising himself for his actions the night before. He never even thought of it, he berated himself, what kind of idiot makes someone think about the one thing they’re trying to avoid.

So engrossed was he, that he missed the pointed looks being directed at him as he passed. When they reached the mess, however, the looks turned to yells and catcalls, which were impossible to ignore.

“Hey Hatake,” one of the men called “have a good night?”

“It was surprisingly pleasant.” was the dry reply.

“Aw, come on, give us details . . . is his ass still nice and tight?” another man called out, making the others at his table laugh.

The laughter stopped abruptly when a large pale hand suddenly grabbed the speaker by the throat, lifting him to hang in the warlord’s grasp, those intimidating eyes sparking with anger. “Mine.” he said in a cold clear voice, “My property, my business. Understood?” Then the hand retracted, leaving him to tumble to the floor, coughing and gasping.

“Do you all understand?” he continued, casting his hawk-like gaze around the room.

Finally, a timid “Yes sir.” rang out from the back. At that the warlord turned on his heel and left the tent, all thoughts of breakfast forgotten, Iruka hurrying to keep up with his long strides.