The Soldier's Tale by RJ Scott Page B

Mark blurted out, looking briefly to Jack, who nodded encouragingly. "I saw it."
    "The knife?" Daniel shook his head. He wasn't following this.
    "The dagger. The one that used to hang on your wall in the sitting room. You had it hidden under your shirt when you were at Sean's house." Mark was insistent, and he waved his hand in what Daniel assumed was a gesture of "you know what I mean."
    "It wasn't actually concealed ." He wasn't carrying a weapon for defence; it just comforted him and sat comfortably secure in his jeans, the hardness of it reassuring against his hip.
    "No. Not hidden from me anyway." Mark had an unfocused lilt to his voice, and Jack interrupted.
    "Mark has been having these dreams—"
    "You're in them." Mark interrupted quickly, "I think maybe—I don't have visions in dream that often—I think it's time for us to talk about Belvedere."
    Daniel tensed. That name again. The name from his dreams. What the hell did— The door opened, and Daniel looked up. Sean stood there, looking in with a question on his face. It was an instant feeling of relief that flooded Daniel as he smiled up at the man who formed such a huge part of his life now.
    "You okay?" Sean asked simply. He didn't wait to be asked in, just closed the door behind him, before choosing the chair next to Daniel, opposite the other two men. He gripped Daniel's hand tight.
    "Mark here was just asking about the dagger," Daniel said conversationally, and Sean nodded. He'd seen it, dealt with it, and never ever questioned why Daniel carried it around with him. Daniel loved him for that.
    "Do you dream?" Mark interrupted quickly and then held out his hand. "I know you do, but, would you share them with me?"
    Daniel hesitated. He wasn't sure he wanted to discuss his freaky post-traumatic stress images of men being burned to death.
    "It's okay." This came from Jack, who leaned towards Daniel. "Mark does this all the time. He's a—"
    "A psychic, yeah I know." There was silence as all eyes turned to Daniel. "Why do you want to know?" Daniel tried not to sound too suspicious.
    "I think, somehow, that I need to be sitting here talking to you, that I could help. With the dreams I mean." Mark seemed so damned sincere, and there was something about the guy that Daniel trusted. Finally, despite feeling uncomfortable, he started to talk.

    * * * *

    Sean listened to Daniel as he explained his dreams, stunned that his lover had made it to where he was, let alone through a single night with these horrific images he lived with. It wasn't just Afghanistan, with his command being decimated by a bomb and the resulting survivor's guilt, but also memories of things he'd never even seen.
    "So they chain up this first guy. Young. Slim."
    "Martin…" Mark suggested softly, and Sean looked from Mark to Daniel and back again as Daniel nodded as if he recognised the name.
    "Yeah, and I hear the older man tell this Martin that he loves him, that it will be okay, and that he will see him on the other side. They aren't both chained. Only Martin is chained to a stone, a big one, like at Stonehenge."
    "A sarsen stone," Sean offered as helpfully as he could, and Daniel nodded.
    "Chained, and then they set fire to this wood, and I see him die."
    "Shit." Sean couldn't help himself. That was an awful image to have inside your head.
    "And then the other man, the dead man's lover… It's another time, I don't know how long afterwards, but another day, and they chain him too. He's tall, proud, and he's determined, not crying and pleading like the other one they murdered first, his lover. He acts like he's accepted his fate." Daniel paused and looked at Sean, who simply leaned closer, hoping his presence helped.
    "That was Jonathan Curtess, the one who laid the curse on the Fitzwarren family." Mark's voice had the ring of certainty.
    "The fire is there and then…"
    "Go on." Mark sounded impatient, and Sean watched as Jack laid a settling hand on his partner's, and Mark reined in his