Prologue

Once upon time in a land where magic determined status, and cruelty was more often in evidence than justice, there lived a young mother by the name of Seraphina, and her extraordinary son, Thomas.

Seraphina was a lovely woman whose features amply reflected her Gypsy ancestry. Her black hair, when wet, ran down her back until it touched the protrusion of her bottom. However, in its natural state, it tried to go in all directions at once, spouting wildly about her head and shoulders in unmanageable tendrils... at least, until she tired of trying to smooth it down and restrained it some manner to keep it out of her way. Her seemingly flawless skin was already a golden color even when there was no sunshine; when she worked outside for any length of time, the color deepened, making her skin look like a fresh honeycomb, a rich brown flecked with bits of gold. Her dark eyes reflected her intense emotions quite honestly. She could rage like the fiercest thunderstorm, seeming to shoot lightning bolts from her eyes; or laugh long and loud, her whole body shaking with pleasure, and her eyes beaming with light that pulled you into the laughter, whether you were in on the joke or not. When she was in pain or distress, she could not hide it; her eyes gave her away no matter what she tried. And yet, most often, her eyes were filled with love and hope, as she gazed with adoration upon the growing young man that was her son.

Thomas, or Thom, as he preferred to be called, grew up with only his mother to guide him. His father, a blacksmith by trade, had offended a member of the ruling family of their land. To be sure, it was a minor offense, but compounded by a prideful stubbornness that kept the blacksmith from prostrating himself before the young princess and begging her forgiveness. His apology was deemed not humble enough, and, with a wave of her hand, the princess stayed his heart and killed the blacksmith, leaving his dead body behind in the street without a backward glance. The townspeople murmured about the death, but mostly about the irritation of losing their blacksmith, not the unjust nature of his summary execution. In a land of cruelty, those without power knew they sometimes had to grovel to survive, and those that refused were looked upon as fools or troublemakers. Thus, as young Thom grew and showed himself to be much the same as his father in looks and attitude, the harsh words that the townspeople had for the father were visited on the son. And, despite the fact that he was anything but, young Thom was often called "the fool" behind his back. Eventually, everyone came to believe the young man with the generous and kind disposition was indeed a fool, without any real reason for it to be so.

It was a lonely life for the young boy growing up, as the other young men and women of the town took to berating him for foolishness, no matter the cause or condition. If Thom was clumsy, he was laughed at for his lack of coordination, despite the fact that he was strong and fairly graceful most of the time. If he failed to answer a question promptly, or stumbled over his words, he was called stupid or dense by his peers, despite the fact that he was in fact the most well-read of any of the youngsters, and could tell stories about the townsfolk and their children that kept his mother laughing for hours.

In many ways, Thom was an amalgam of the best of both his father and mother. Like his father he was intensely loyal, good with his hands, and tremendously strong. From his mother he had inherited quickness of mind and body, a great sense of humor, a burning desire for knowledge, and a great thirst to live and experience all that life had to offer. Both of them had a strong sense of right and wrong, and that was reinforced doubly in Thom. He was tremendously self-aware; he shrugged of insults and deprecations, knowing that people were seeing what they wanted and not what actually existed. Moreover, he used it to his advantage; knowing he likely would leave the town behind to discover what opportunities lay beyond for a man of his ability, he played the fool actively when he was out in public. Many thought him gullible and easily lead astray, when in fact he often maneuvered those who would prey on him into situations they came to regret. When the others were caught in their mischief, no one paid him any mind, since no one could believe he might be smart enough to manipulate those of ill-will into traps he had devised. If he was caught in the middle, invariably he would be cleared of any blame, if only because he was a fool, and could not be held responsible for any malicious acts.

The bully boys of town would goad him, trying to get him into fights they felt they could easily win. He would always try to avoid such fights by playing dumb or ignoring the provocations. If forced to fight, he would allow the instigator one blow, and would make sure to never let it really hurt him too much. However, once struck, he would turn into a bellowing, enraged berserker. The fight would be over in seconds as Thom tackled his attacker, pinning him to the ground and then pummeling him with fast, hard blows that felt like bricks raining down from the sky. After only a few of those fights, it was known around town that you provoked Thom at your own risk.

As he grew into manhood, Thom noticed more and more budding young women glancing in his direction as he would walk by. The stares were especially apparent when he would work with his shirt off, trying to earn what little he could to help make ends meet at home. He also noticed many poorly stifled giggles when a group of his female "admirers" would try to quietly observe his shirtless labors. His return glances would be met with quickly averted eyes or the scattering of those who'd been watching him.

In time, he came to realize that, while his reputation as a fool kept most everyone away, there were a certain number of adolescent girls who found him to be handsome. His father had been large and muscular, his frame most often compared to that of a well-rooted tree — strong, sturdy, and hard to topple. As he grew into manhood, Thom developed the same broad shoulders and defined muscularity as his father. However, where his father had often been described as plain, Thom had inherited his looks from his mother's side of the family. His hair, skin, and eyes were all the same dark color as his mother, and her beauty muted his father's more angular features. The combination left him with a strong jaw line and chin, like his father, but his mother's nose and cheekbones. Behind their hands, his admirers often whispered that he would be quite the catch... if he weren't such a fool.

In the summer of his 16th year, Thom was walking home at dusk after another hard day of labor when he heard a scream from the trees bordering the west edge of the town. He immediately dropped the cheese and flour he was carrying and ran into the edge of the tree line, pausing to try to determine where the scream had come from. He moved quietly in the direction he thought was most likely, and was rewarded seconds later by rustling sounds and a sharp slap, followed by a woman's sobbing and moans of pain. He crept closer, the sounds of his approach masked by the noise of grappling bodies and the tearing of someone's clothes. It took only a few seconds more for him to reach the edge of a small clearing. He quickly realized why he had heard the woman scream.

In the fading light of the day, he saw a man lying atop a woman, while another man stood close by. The woman was only partially clothed, with the shredded remnant of her long skirt flung away from the trio toward where Thom was watching. The man was making clumsy humping motions with his hips, but the woman was obviously resisting his attempts to enter her. The man pinned the woman on the ground with his lower body and used his right hand to slap her hard across the face. The woman did not cry out, but Thom could hear her sobs intensify. The man resumed his attempts to initiate sex with the woman, and this time she struggled less, though she still frustrated her attacker's ultimate goal as best she could. Thom could sense that the victim only had a few moments of resistance left before she would finally succumb to being forced to have sex with the man.

Thom may have had no practical experience with sex, but his mother had done everything possible to give him the knowledge he would need when his first time finally came. She had also ingrained into him that sex should be an act of pleasure and, hopefully, of love, and that no man should ever force himself on a woman. As a young Gypsy, she had been caught alone away from camp one night, and a drunken man who lost his money in a card game had taken his revenge on her where no one else could here. She had been beaten, raped, and left unconscious and alone, bleeding from numerous cuts as well as from her shattered virginity. She woke with the sun the next morning and made her way back to camp. When her father saw her, he had to be physically restrained from finding the man who had brutalized his daughter and killing him publicly. Instead, a few nights later, the man was walking home from another night of drinking and fighting at the tavern in his town when two men emerged from the shadows behind him and struck him in the head with a club. The rapist was never heard from again, and those in the town made only a few token inquiries before dropping the matter altogether. No one missed him when he never returned.

As Thom stood watching from the trees, he remembered his mother's story of being hurt, of the pain and sorrow she had to live with for years afterward. In his mind, the woman sobbing on the ground in front of him became the teenage Seraphina — young, scared, alone, vulnerable. His rage at the scene before him grew to unmanageable proportions. Before he was aware he had moved, he was standing behind the rapist's companion.

Thom grabbed the man around the throat with his right arm, silencing him by cutting off his air. The man clutched vainly at the muscular arm that had come from nowhere, but was unable to free himself or warn his otherwise occupied companion. Within seconds, the man went limp in Thom's arms. Trying to keep the element of surprise, the boy laid the man on the ground gently.

He really needn't have worried about the other man, though. His frustration at being denied his goal had lead to threats and cursing, and he again paused to slap his victim across the face repeatedly. He raised his arm to strike her again... and then found his arm stopped from coming forward by an iron grip around his wrist. Before he could turn around, he was flying through the air toward a tree. He barely had time to recognize his peril before his head hit the bark with a sickening, wet crunch. Thom stood over the man with his fists clenched, waiting for him to move. Overwhelmed by the shock of the attack, the strain of defending herself, and her sudden rescue, the woman began to shake and cry. Her heaving sobs shook her entire body, and Thom turned to her in concern that she would hurt herself even more because of her reaction.

Up to that moment, Thom had not considered the ramifications of what he was doing. In his rage, he had not thought about the consequences of his actions; he simply saw a vulnerable person in need and reacted. Now, he realized he had seriously injured one man and perhaps killed another. It was not his own violent action that concerned him; anyone who attacked the defenseless or the weak in such a manner deserved what they got. His concern was grounded more in fear of discovery and exposure. Hiding behind his fool façade, he was able to do hear more and see more than most, because no one believed him capable of understanding duplicity or deception. How ironic, since he seemed to engage in it in his very day-to-day life! But his very direction action here seemed to him to have just two possible outcomes... exposure, or sanction. Neither were very appealing prospects. To be hailed as the woman's savior invited too many questions about him and some of the situations he'd been involved in the past. Perhaps even to the point where he might be exposed as the one who manipulated those situations into a just resolution.

But, given his reputation as a fool, it was more likely he would be subject to some type of criminal punishment for injuring the two men, regardless of the circumstance. He'd seen how lightly those accused of rape were treated by the law; the women who were attacked were scorned if they aired the accusation, while the attackers often were given light punishments or released outright. However, he'd seen some men punished much more severely for interfering in the same circumstances. He feared he could be jailed for hurting the men, despite their brutality. He could foresee how he would be derided as a public danger for hurting two men so badly in anger... branded as, not just a fool, but a dangerous one as well.

Thom pondered simply leaving the clearing and going home. He knew neither of the two men had seen him, and it was now too dark for him to be clearly recognized by the woman, if she could think clearly enough to remember him later. And yet, while he cared nothing about what happened to the two men, it chafed him to think he would be angry enough to come to defense of a woman he didn't know, yet be callous enough to leave her alone in the woods just to protect himself. He stood still in the darkness, caught between self-interest and his desire to help put things right.

In the end, it was woman who made the decision for him. Thomas realized she was no longer crying. In fact, there was no noise at all from where she lay, unlike the rustling sounds he had heard earlier when her shaking had been fierce enough to disturb the leaves and fallen branches around her. As soon as he realized what the silence might mean, he rushed to kneel at her side.

He groped blindly for her hand, and was shocked to instead encounter her bare breast! Her main attacker had ripped open her blouse, leaving her chest and abdomen exposed to cool air of the evening. Thomas felt how cold her skin felt beneath the sweat and dirt left from defending herself from her attacker, and knew he needed to get her out of the woods and into someplace warmer as quick as he could. He feared her injuries might go beyond bruises and scrapes, and wondered where he could take her for help.

Even as he thought, he was gathering the woman into his arms. He tried to be gentle, but she moaned as he lifted her from the ground and held her against his chest. He hugged her tightly for a moment, trying both to warm and reassure the nearly naked woman. Then, he cradled her across his arms, letting her head rest against his chest as he carefully picked his way out of the trees and back toward the road into town. She seemed to weigh next to nothing, but Thomas still carried her like she could break in two at any moment. Other than groaning occasionally, the woman was silent; her head bounced lifelessly against him each time he jostled her, which was unavoidable in the dark forest.

Finally, they emerged behind the barn that served as the town's livery and stable. Thom knew he could not take the woman to the town's physician; he was likely drinking his way into a stupor at the tavern nearest his office. He briefly thought about taking her home, but realized that would simply pull his mother into the situation, prolonging rather than ending it. At last, he decided to take her to the one place she might receive some sympathetic attention from someone he knew.

He headed toward the town's brothel.

His mother often supplied various potions to the women who plied their trade at the bordello. Seraphina also counted the madam as a friend — they each were shunned by the townsfolk for different reasons... at least until they needed a service that only the outcast could provide. It was that friendship that Thom hoped to prevail upon tonight.

The boy hastened to the back door of the brothel, hoping to catch the attention of a maid or a server. He was in luck; a girl by the name of Cassandra was sitting behind the house catching her breath before returning to her duties cleaning the bedrooms between customers. Thom stood in the shadows at the edge of the porch and called her name softly. "Cassie... Cassie... help me, please!"

Cassie looked up to see a large man holding what looked like a limp bundle of rages in his arms, and jumped quickly to her feet. "Who is that? What do you want? Don't come any closer or I'll run get Mr. Tetch!" Custin Tetch was the brothel's de facto sergeant-at-arms, and Thom knew he carried a pistol under his coat, tucked in the small of his back in a hidden holster.

"Cassie, it's Seraphina's son, Thom! I've got an injured woman here, and I surely need some help with her. I'm afraid she's dying!"

Cassie had visited Seraphina's home for potions on several occasions, so she knew who Thom was. What's more, she was one of those girls who tried, as often as she could, to find out where Thom was working in or near town, in hopes of catching him with his shirt off. She dreamed of him occasionally, wondering if someday she might do more than just admire him from a distance. Despite her attraction, she eyed the boy and his burden suspiciously.

"Just what did you do, you young fool? Did you try to force yourself on her and hurt her?" She peered a bit closer, and noticed the woman's lack of clothing. "You did, didn't you! You tore her clothes off and hurt that girl trying to sex her up! I'm going to get Mr. Tetch!"

"Cassandra!" Thom's voice was strong and commanding, and it froze the girl as she moved to go into the house. "I did not hurt this girl! I know you may not believe me, but I heard her screaming in the woods, and I found two men on her trying to rape her. I may have killed them both, I don't know, but I do know that this woman needs help right now. If you need to, wake the whole house, but get somebody out here right now!" Thom stepped forward and placed the unconscious woman on the porch, trying vainly to pull her blouse around far enough to cover her chest.

Cassie watched the boy try to cover the woman and felt slightly ashamed. She'd seen men after they'd hurt women, after they'd used them for their own pleasure and left them behind to fend for themselves. That Thom desperately wanted to try to help the woman and cared enough to try to preserve her dignity spoke volumes about him. Cassie turned and hurried into the house, letting the screen door slam behind her.

Thom heard the door slam and his heart sank, thinking that Cassie was going to get the brothel's bully boy. His hope to find help for the girl and then escape back to his relatively anonymous life seemed to be flying further away by the second. He pushed the fear down by concentrating on the woman, trying to get some warmth into her by holding her hands between his.

The sound of the screen door slamming again caused him to start, and he looked up expecting to see Custin Tetch waving a pistol at him. Instead, Cassie walked toward him, shaking out a blanket. Right behind her came the woman his mother called Emmie... and who everyone else called Miz Emerald, the madam who ran the brothel. She took in the situation for a moment and then started giving orders.

"Cassie, get that girl covered up and then help Thom get her inside. Put her in the room under the stairs with the spare bed. From the looks of her, we need to get her warm and clean, and then we can see what damage that old reprobate Morgan can find." Cassie spread the blanket over woman, and the brothel owner noticed how Thom seemed to relax a bit afterward. She leaned over the porch railing and trailed her fingers through his hair, smiling.

"Don't you worry, Thom. I've know your mother for as long as I have been in this town, and she is one of the best women I have ever known. The way she talks about you, I'd just about think you could walk on water if it suited you." Thom looked up at her quickly, shocked that his mother had talked so openly about him. Emmie had to laugh at his wide-eyed expression, and ruffled his hair in affection. "Oh, yes, Thomas... I know all about you! And your secret is safe with me. Now let's get this girl in the house and start getting her better." And with that, Emmie turned and walked back into the house, leaving Thomas and Cassie to stare first at the space where Emmie had stood a moment earlier, and then at each other.

Cassie managed to recover her wits first. "Right. You pick her up just like you did before, then, and I'll open the door for you. Then you wait for me and I'll lead you to the spare room." Cassie was no fool. The fact that Miz Emerald was so affectionate and warm toward the boy had boosted her opinion of him immediately. The fact that there was some type of heroic secret about him that only his mother and Miz Emerald knew made her mind spill over with all types of fanciful notions. Even as Thom gently lifted his charge and carried her toward the door, Cassie was already imagining him as some type of dragon slayer, rescuing damsels in distress while refusing to take credit for the deed. Cassie noticed the care and concern that guided each of his movements, and suddenly wished that she was the victim and Thom her mighty rescuer. She could barely keep her mind on getting the ailing woman put to bed because her mind was so filled with idea of heroic rescues... and the hero's reward.

Thom's mind was racing as well, but he was focused on Emmie's words, not heroic fantasies. For some unknown reason he was furious with his mother for telling the brothel owner anything about what he'd tried to do to make things better in the town. Though he knew he couldn't keep it up indefinitely, he did want to make as much of a difference as he could before moving out into the world beyond his birthplace. It was like his mother had betrayed his confidence, no matter how securely the secret would be held by Seraphina's best friend. He lay the still unconscious woman in the bed Cassie had lead him to and then turned toward the door, intending to race home and confront his mother. Still, something held him back. He looked toward the bed again, taking in the frail young woman, her faced streaked with dirt and tears. For some reason he was compelled to return to her bedside, where he contemplated what it was he needed to do. Finally, he bent over and kissed her lightly on the forehead, telling her that she could relax because she was among friends. Even asleep, she must have heard the words, or the intent behind them. Thom noticed a subtle shift in woman's breathing, and her body seemed to release hidden tension as it relaxed deeper into the bed.

Lost in her fantasies, Cassie watched Thom kiss the girl and felt moisture start to leak from between the folds of her pussy. She excused herself quickly, saying she needed to look into getting Thom's maiden cleaned up a bit. By the time she returned 15 minutes later, she had scratched the itch that had developed between her legs... and found that Thom was gone. She had hoped to find the nerve to ask him to help her scratch that persistent itch... but she smiled as she realized that she knew where he lived, and could find him there whenever he wasn't working. She even knew how she would approach the subject when she saw him.

A hero, she would say, always deserves a special reward.

In the aftermath of that one incident, Thom would find himself tutored in the ways of pleasing a woman. Cassie was the first and most regular, but, as she told others about the amazing stamina and prowess of the town fool, Thom soon had a regular stable of devoted and imaginative admirers. He did his best to satisfy each one to the utmost. Yet, to a woman, each would say that the sex, while wonderful, was nothing compared to having Thom's arms around them, making them feel safe and protected and loved. And yet, all but one said the same thing to her friends when asked about the quickly maturing youth..."If only he weren't such a fool!"

Cassie just smiled and held her tongue. She knew he would leave the town someday to find a better life; they talked often about their dreams as they lay together after a fervent session of lovemaking. She had been his first partner, and managed to remain his most frequent lover despite the quantity of female flesh that pursued Thom as his reputation grew. Only Cassie knew that the sweet and seemingly tireless sex machine the others saw was also a brave, moral, and — yes — heroic man. In the two years since their first meeting on the back porch of the brothel, she had lost her heart to him, though she would never admit it. She lacked the self-confidence and courage to tell him how she felt, fearing rejection. Instead, she did whatever she could to endear herself to Thom, to be not only his lover, but his companion, friend, and confidant. She tried to make herself indispensable, since her only wish in the world was that Thom would take her with him when he finally left town.

Yet, neither Thom nor Cassie was prepared when that moment finally came.

Seraphina watched with pride as her son grew up to be a man to be reckoned with. To her it was more important that he have a strong personal character and moral grounding, but the fact that he was also able to defend himself and those he cared for when needed only added to her belief that, someday, he would be a leader of men... and a magnet for women.

It was with this in mind that Seraphina decided one day to use the lessons taught to her as a Gypsy girl as ways of divining the future. Though she was neither a powerful magic worker nor practiced in the arts, she did what she could to see what Thomas might face in the future and try to determine how she best could ensure his success. Her divining showed her that he could be an inspiration for the entire land... if he could overcome his greatest challenge — those who would do him ill with magic.

Seraphina knew that her son could not protect himself from the cruelty and injustice that was practiced by those with magic at their command. No matter how strong he was, Thom would have no chance of survival if he stood up to a magic-wielding foe, no matter how just his cause. She dwelled constantly on what she could do to make her son immune to the magic of others, so as to give him a fair chance to live up to the greatness she could see in him.

As the time grew closer for Thom to leave the town, Seraphina became more and more desperate to find something to give to her boy to help protect him on his journey. The two of them had no money; Thom worked as a laborer at farms outside of town, and brought home food in exchange for his hard work. Seraphina's Gypsy heritage afforded her some knowledge of potions and fortune telling, and she had a small but devoted following that came to her for natural contraceptives, analgesics, and other herbal remedies. In exchange for what help she could give, she also traded for things the family needed, such as clothes or food. They were not overly poor, but were far from well off financially.

Seraphina knew of an itinerant magic worker who traveled from town-to-town, weaving spells and making powerful charms for those who could afford to pay. She knew she had nothing she could offer him that could be resold or traded for gold. But she did have one thing a traveling man, wizard or not, might be interested in for a night or two. Something that might have a trade value high enough to get what she wanted for her son.

Since the death of her husband, Seraphina had scorned the men of the town, crushing their clumsy attempts to attract her favor with cutting insults and, occasionally, a scratch, a slap, or even a kick to the crotch. Once Thom had gotten old enough to notice how some men would try to take liberties with his mother, he found numerous inventive ways to use his cover persona to punish them for their ungentlemanly behavior. Once, when a man caressed his mother's bottom as she attempted to trade in town, he "accidentally" knocked the man down, and then tried hopelessly to help the man up off the ground, only to stumble continuously. Each time he fell, Thom drove his shoulder or elbow into a sensitive section of the man's body, leaving a bruise the offender would still feel days later. Each time, Thom would offer his most abject apology, then offer the man a hand up, only to stumble again. Seraphina had to struggle to stifle her laughter, knowing her son was purposefully punishing the man for his offense against her. Everyone else watching simply thought it was another display of clumsiness and stupidity by the town fool.

Even though she lacked companionship, Seraphina had not been totally chaste in the years following her husband's death. On occasion, an old friend from her Gypsy past would come to town to trade and gossip. He would often end his days at Seraphina's house, having dinner with the woman and her son. And, after Thom was abed and asleep, Seraphina would unleash her pent-up passions, doing whatever necessary to ensure that her lover satisfied her at least three times for each orgasm he had. The Gypsy man would stay for several nights, and each time before he left, he would ask Seraphina to be his woman and return to the Gypsy life of continuous travel and rootlessness. Each time, she would think of or look upon her son, and then smile and shake her head. The man knew he could never have her heart, for it truly belonged to the boy. He contented himself with knowing that he was the only man allowed to have her body, only wishing he could share that passion every night instead of the few times a year he returned to the town.