Sunshine and Roses
Children cried against their mothers' bosoms. Women clung to their husbands. All in all, Justin estimated that there were fewer than seventy people in that group. Such a poor place. . . Was the King's gift such a fine thing after all? Justin had his doubts. Still, he had land now. What he could make of it was on his own head.
A few bullheaded farmers, a few stubborn servants, brandished rakes and sticks, but one by one, as the cold blueness of Justin's eyes swept over them, they dropped their makeshift weapons.
"I wish to speak to Sir Richard's son." He swept over each person again, waiting, but no answer came forth. "Come now. I do not intend on killing him. I would gain little in doing that. I want only to speak to him, show him this missive from the king." No one uttered a word. No one stepped forward. "I know he has not left. We have had this castle under surveillance for over a month." Still, no one came forward with the information he wanted. He ground his teeth and snapped, "Search for him."
Robert turned to the men, divided them up into small groups and then sent them on their way.
Justin dismounted, handed his horse's reins over to Robert who in turn called forward the stable master. See to the lordship's horse."
"Have all the mounts seen to, Robert. This rain has taken its toll on them as well." Robert nodded and Justin went inside the castle.
It was clean but a poor place, not fit for a man of Richard the Hunter's standings. Justin scowled at the threadbare hangings, the lack of refinery anywhere. He had heard that Richard had spent his farthings on his lovers. The appearance of this castle agreed to that.
"Robert, have one of the servants come back in. I want a fire in that fireplace and I want food for our men."
"Yes, Sir!"
A slim, tall man returned with Robert. He had chestnut curls. It was worn long, tied back. His eyes were green, challenging, yet he knelt, murmured, "I give thee good day, sir."
Justin nodded, understanding the other's feelings. The soldier was a stranger, an unknown element to the servant. The mercenary said, "Thank you for your attendance. My men are hungry. Is there sufficient food in this castle to feed them?"
"For three days only. . .your Lordship."
"Is this place so poor?"
"Sir Richard never thought of earthly requirements. His servants did the best they could with what they had."
"He was busy elsewhere, was he?" He watched the young man flush darkly and wondered if he had been one of Richard's lovers. "Can the villager's provide further provisions?" When the young man hesitated, Justin said sharply, "I'll not force them to starve to feed our bellies. If they cannot provide, I'll send a few of my men to one of the larger towns to buy what we need!"
"The villagers are poor. Sir Richard never. . .he. . ."
"You need say nothing further on the subject. I understand. Make the fire now. I'm cold."
"Yes, your Lordship." The young man made the fire and then vanished quickly back outside where the cook house waited.
Justin had Robert send five of his men to the closest town to purchase what they would need and then he settled back to wait for the result of searching the castle. Within the hour, the verdict came back: Richard the Hunter's son was no where to be found.
"Damn his flesh! He must be hiding with the people! Round them back up."
"We have not allowed them to leave."
Justin nodded thoughtfully. "Wise, Robert. How did you know?"
"When I served under Richard the Steward, we encountered a similar problem."
"And was it so easily resolved?"
"The man we sought was dead within the hour."
Justin's face revealed nothing of what he was thinking. <I am so tired of killing. I want only a warm bed to sleep in, peace around me. Is that so much to ask?>
Moments later, Justin walked down the line of people, staring at each one with careful, thoughtful eyes. He did not know what the Hunter's son looked like, but he was hoping he could tell by his appearance. Surely he would stand out in his rough clothing like a sore thumb would in a costly ring.
No one did.
Justin turned to Robert de Grippe. "Do you know what he looks like?"
"I've heard he was thrown from a horse when he was twelve and broke a cheekbone and his shoulder blade. As to the color of his eyes or his hair. . ." Robert shrugged. "Sir Richard never brought him to court. He was never paraded."
Justin faced the villagers and servants once more. "I want Sir Richard's son." He waited but no one gave him anything but dour looks. "I mean him no harm. I wish only to speak with him." He saw the distrustful gleams in their collective eyes. That and their refusal to answer angered him. He reached out, grabbed a female and pushed her down at his feet. He drew his sword. He placed it gently her shoulder. Its edge was upward so that it would not cut her but she was so fearful of the man and that weapon, she began to wail in terror. "I will kill this woman if I am not given the truth! I want the son of Richard the Hunter!"
The servant who had lit the fire stepped forward. His features and the glare in his eyes revealed his rage. "Let her go!"
"Ah! The cook. A wise man has stepped forward. Where is the Hunter's son?"
"He stands before you, Sir William."
Justin searched the crowd. "I grow tired of your games! Point him out."
"I am Sir Richard's heir."
Laughing, Justin released the woman. She scurried back to the crowd and was soon buried behind the others. "The cook? I doubt Sir Richard would adopt a son and then make him cook." Yet, the cheekbone showed it had been broken at one time. There was a chance, true, but. . .would a duke's son, even an adopted one, be put into the kitchen to work as a lackey?
"I am Richard the Hunter's son." His eyes challenged the ex-mercenary. "I do not like the idea of your threatening my people."
"Your people?" Justin replaced his sword into its leather holder. "Your wording is incorrect."
"The king might have given you this land, this castle. You might now own the villages and everything within them, but you do not own the people."
"It is within my right to order them killed, the towns burned." Justin's hand caressed the handle of his sword.
Lowry's eyes went briefly to the other man's slowly moving fingers. "You would be a fool to do that. Are you a fool, William Justin?"
"I do not think of myself as one, and you, sir, do not look like a duke's son."
"Never-the-less, I am. I accepted the fact that the king has awarded you this land. Did we not open the gates without fighting? I do not understand why you needed to speak to me."
"A son can cause trouble with the people."
"Am I to be killed then?" His chin raised in defiance. When the people around him began to show signs of aggressive behavior, Lowry raised his hand and ordered in gentle firmness, "Hold. Let him speak." The villagers and the servants grew silent but their sullen, dangerous expressions promised the ex-solider of fortune a fight if he should touch the young man.
<What king of person aroused such loyalty?> Justin wondered.
"Am I to be killed, William Justin?"
"It would be a logical step, would it not?" Justin smiled faintly.
"Yes."
"If the situations were reversed, would you slay me Raymond the Lowry?" His eyes became hooded.
"Nay. Unlike you, I am not blood thirsty."
Justin glanced down at his clothes in mock worry. "Am I blood thirsty? I killed no one today."
"Your reputation precedes you."
"I see. Why are you dressed as a servant?"
"It was Sir Richard's idea. He had hoped that one day, the land would be returned to me. I could not receive it back if I were dead."
"Nay." A breeze blew in from the north. Justin shivered in his wet clothing. "You, " he ordered Lowry, "come back into the castle with me. Have the real servants fix nourishment for us. Robert. . ."
"Yes?"
"You will sup with us tonight. Have Lorans secure the castle's drawbridge, bed down the men in the out buildings."
"My people?" Lowry inquired.
"MY. . .people. Remind my men that no one is to be touched. Let the villagers return to their homes."
"It will be done." Robert left.
"The castle?" Justin's brow lifted in question. "I am not enjoying standing here in these wet clothes." Lowry nodded reluctantly and followed the man back inside.
"The food is even now being cooked."
"I look forward to eating. Where is Sir Richard's room?" When Lowry hesitated, "Is his body within?"
"Nay. I ordered it buried the moment he died. He is not inside it."
"Then what is wrong?" Justin grimaced. "He will not be needing it."
Lowry stiffened. His jaws tightened. "Nay, he won't. I'll take you to it."
"Many thanks for this small kindness." The sarcasm made the other man flush even more.
When the door to the dead man's bedroom was opened and Justin stepped inside, he gasped in shock. "My God! The man was a fool!" The tapestries were all of men fornicating with other men. There were nude, male statues where the penises were engorged. One was bent over, his backside up in the air, his anus prominent. There were several small whips on the walls, chains and manacles on the bed posts. Justin finally tore his eyes from the spectacle and it was then he realized Lowry had vanished. Irritated, he went in search of Richard's son.
Lowry was in another bedroom. He was kneeling by his own fireplace, shivering despite the warmth that radiated from the flames.
"Is this your room?"
"Yes." He replied without looking around. There was a tremble in his voice as well. "I know what it looks like, but Sir Richard was a good man."
"Was he?"
Lowry shot up. His eyes blazed. "You did not know him! How dare you pass judgement on him! Do you see any of those things anywhere else in the castle?
"Nay." They studied each other, Lowry with suspicion, Justin with contemplation. "Are you always so prickly?"
"When it comes to Sir Richard, I am. He was good to me."
"Are you like him?" Justin asked softly, his eyes hooded. He watched the flush spread darkly over Lowry's cheeks.
"Nay!" Lowry whirled around, faced the fireplace once more. "I'm not! I'm not!" His body was stiff, taut.
Justin smiled and said, "I cannot sleep in that room the way it is. It disgusts me. Is there another I may use until it is altered? And these clothes. . .I need fresh one. I brought none with me." He gave a small sound, half sigh, half chuckle. "It is not a good idea to carry a lot when one faces battle."
Lowry rose stiffly. Averting his eyes, he said, "There is the guest chamber. It was set aside for the king. It is not. . .like the other. I can have someone lay a fire, put fresh sheets and quilts on the bed, place the warming pan between them."
"Not someone. . .I want you to do that." When Lowry's gaze finally met the blue, steady one, Justin said softly. "If you are not averse to waiting on me, you may remain in this castle, in this room. Otherwise, I would have to ask you leave."
"If I remain, I would be your servant?"
"Unless you think you're too good for that."
"There is no shame in serving others, " Lowry said stiffly.
"Good. Then lay a fire in my room, turn down the bed. . .oh, by the way, I shall want a hot bath. You will bathe me."
"Bathe. . .?"
"Unless you consider yourself too noble for that."
"Nay! It is just that I do not have experience in valeting."
"Surely you had one. How hard is it to emulate him?"
"I did not. . . We could not afford. . . Sir Richard. . ." He seemed embarrassed, almost ashamed.
"He had his mind elsewhere. Are you able to procure fresh clothing? These are growing extremely uncomfortable."
"Sir Richard's clothing should fit you. . .if you wouldn't mind wearing them."
"I do not think he will need them. However, it would be just for tonight. My things should arrive tomorrow. If you will take care of my room and the change of garments, I will wait here by the fire." Lowry nodded and left. Justin spent the time investigating the room. It was sparse, austere. The only bit of color was a small painting of a woman hanging by the bed. She had the same green eyes as Ray Lowry. His mother, Justin decided. On a tiny table, stood a crucifix. Except for its largeness, this room was like a monk's cell.
When Lowry returned to say that everything was ready, Justin said, baffled, "You have very little clothing."
"I have no requirement for more. What I own suffices."
"I too have little clothing but that was because I traveled around so much, carrying more than a change proved impossible, but I would think Sir Richard would want his son to dress better."
"He paid very little attention to things like that."
Justin inquired in curiosity, "How can you stand this room?"
Mystified, Lowry looked around. "It serves its purpose."
"Not pleasantly."
"I cannot see the room when I sleep. Your bath will grow cold in this chill, Sir William."
"There's no color in here."
"There is enough outside. When I have need to see them, I simply go out. Please? Do you know how hard it is lug hot water up those stairs?"
"You could stand a few extra muscles." The small grin and the twinkle in his blue eyes betryesd the harshness of the words. Lowry gave a slight upturning of his own lips and went out into the hall. "I shall bathe downstairs from now on."
"That is very kind of you. Sir Richard had a special room set aside. It has two fireplaces. Fiona volunteers to help you in your bath."
"Fiona?"
"She sees to the wash."
As they walked down the hall, Justin asked, "What does she look like?"
"Her hair is long and curly and deep auburn. Her eyes are blue, like yours."
"Is she pretty?" Justin prompted when the other man finished speaking. They entered his apartment.
Lowry shrugged. "I guess she is."
"You guess?"
"I have heard the others speak of her in that manner. They like the way she looks. Do I undress you or do you do that?"
"I can undress myself but if I am to be a duke, then I should let you have that honor, shouldn't I?"
"Sir Clarence had his valet do it." Awkwardly at first, then with more assurance, Lowry removed Justin's clothing, the leather jerkin, the doublet, the undertunic. Yet, when he reached the codpiece, the last barrier between covering and total nudity, Lowry blushed bright red. He averted his head from the nakedness that stood before him as he unfastened the ornate covering.
"You act as though you have never seen a naked man before." Justin stepped into the bath.
"Of course I have." His voice shook just a little.
"Have you?" His tone was sharper than he had intended.
"One of Sir Richard's lover mistook my room for my adopted father's."
"Did he now?"
"Yes. He was. . .without clothing." He flushed again.
Somehow, Justin doubted that it was an accident, and that uncomfortable look on Lowry's face told him that he doubted it too. "Are you a virgin, Raymond Lowry?" he asked softly, gently.
"I want to join the church. I want to be a monk so of course I kept myself pure"
"Why didn't you join? Why are you still here? You are most definitely old enough. How old are you?"
"I have seen my twenty-fifth year."
"Then why are you still here?" He handed the young man the wash cloth and soap.
"Sir Richard refused to let me go. He wanted someone here to inherit his land."
"It is a poor land to give to someone." He sighed. "You may start on my back first."
"Yes, Sir William."
Moments later, Justin asked, "Have you ever wanted anyone?"
There were too many seconds between the question and the reply. "Nay." The wet, soapy bit of material moved up and down the Justin's chest. Justin's paps hardened. His hands tightened on the edges of the metal tub.
Suddenly, without warning, the cloth was jerked from Lowry's hand. "I shall finish on my own. Go downstairs and make sure the food will be ready. I'm ravenous."
Puzzled at the harsh tone, Lowry replied, "Yes, Sir William."
"And stop calling me that! Call me Will or just plain Justin."
A merry gleam came into the green eyes. "Saying Sir William is a lot faster than saying just plain Justin." He ducked the cloth thrown by the laughing man.
"God! A virgin! How did he get so old without loosing it?" Justin's eyes narrowed. "I wonder who it was he wanted?" His hands circled his cock. "A virgin. . ." His fingers moved. His shaft thickened, grew longer. "A virgin. . ." He pictured Lowry naked, laying on his stomach, his buttocks raised on a pillow, high up in the air, waiting. His mind's eyes saw the untouched hole waiting to be claimed. His imagination pictured that hot, tightness encircling his penis, those muscles griping him. He envisioned himself plunging into the pure body. Milky, wet fluid shot into the bath water, and Justin cried out as he came, "Ray!"
The Stag got serviced over the weekend, and still does from time to time...
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