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Growing up in the thirteenth century Chapter 1
1270 England
Chaos, violence, turbulence and wars were the names of that century. When the dark clouds were hanging over the lonely island of Britain, people suffered from the disasters of war, poverty and plague. Peace rarely came to this land. That was a time of knight and tale, of the boring depiction of risk and gambling of life. Restless life was the only thing people could expect. It was better than death in any case. God seemed to be asleep during that time, never keeping an eye on this world. The only exceptions to this were the monks. The black gowns were their best shelters from the sun, and from the vital world. And the Bible, of course, was their wand. Nothing grew on their shining tonsure, not to mention inside. Just looking at the numberless church, like sharp knife, penetrated every heart of villages, towns, and cities. It was the medieval life. Sun rose, sun set, sun rose, sun set...every day the same. From dawn to dark, from cradle to graveyard, there was little change.
It was a clear night. Daytime's heat cooled down with the breeze blowing. In a huge castle, the heir of the Earl, young Ralph was sitting in his room, looking out the window. It was a beautiful starry night. If the Milky Way were a river, he would turn into a daffodil like Narcissus. His pure blue eyes were visible even in this dark. You could see them glowing like the gentle moonlight and hear them speaking like silent music. His lips were petals of rose, so delicate, so fragile that you dared not touch them. The waterfall of blond hair softly hung on his shoulders. His body was slender but firm. Exquisite skin was smooth next to the linen cloths drawing a perfect outline of his stature. Everything fitted him ideally. He immersed in his own world, apart from this noisy one.
"So beautiful a night!" said Ralph. "If stars could shine forever, at least there would be light for those who have lost their ways. Will there be someone who can light up my light? No matter who he is, no matter where he comes from, I just need a love, it's only a love isn't it?" He was lost in his mind. "But it's impossible. I can't see the future, it's too dark. So stifling. Was the world just a stage for God? People seeking love are just ridiculous actors. Going on the stage when he was born, suffering for his whole life for several years, then disappearing in the graveyard when he can't act any more, just like melting in the air." He sighed, then sat on his bed.
He began to take off his clothes, hanging them on the wall. In the Middle Ages, people often slept nude. His fingers slipped across his skin, removing the cloth that once covered this beauty. He lay his body on the bed, already knowing that it's impossible to sleep. Ralph didn't know what to call his illusion: nightmare or dream? A beautiful nude boy, glowing in a blank background walking towards him, smiled and wove his hands. But with his approaching, the boy's face became more and more blurred, ending up with translucent bubbles in hundreds of golden halos. The irrepressible impulse instigated him to try to reach the boy's hand, and capture him and touch him and... kiss him. He couldn't help trembling, even in the dream, with extreme excitement and fear. Fiery passion burned inside him, his breath quickened, his face turned red. Ralph couldn't tell whether he's still asleep or awake. He couldn't stop dreaming it, thinking it, or rather, expecting it. "Will that dream come true?" He kept asking himself, yet too afraid to answer. "But who cares? It's just a dream." He looked up at the ceiling, waiting for the book, with a smile emerging insensibly.
The night passed by soon. Now the sunlight shone, lazily sneaking through the window, peering at the naked body of Ralph. A knock at the door broke the silence.
"The breakfast is ready, Master."
Ralph opened his eyes, and then uncovered the blanket exposing him to the chilly air in the early morning. Feeling refreshed as soon as he sat up, he stared to get dressed, a tunic, drawer and hose, then the shoes, the typical clothes for young men in Middle Ages. Having washed, Ralph went to the kitchen and found his breakfast, a hunk of rye bread and a horn of small beer. He stood by the buttery door and began to eat. It only took him a few minutes to finish. Things seemed to be running on the track as regularly as the past.
A sunny day is rare in this wet England. There was no reason to stay in the dark and almost empty castle. Ralph decided to exercise his riding. It's quite necessary for a young noble man to practice riding, archery and so on in an ancient world where people may bite others merely for fame, fortune, land, or even merely to survive. Fighting for a king without any reason, obeying God's order without any suspicion, living as his father without any happiness as a standard noble man, it was the life already planned for Ralph.
"But it's still good to have some fresh air." That was what Ralph had in mind.
He was already an excellent rider. It didn't take him much time on practicing. There was a small river, ceaselessly whispering happily. He jumped off the horse and decided to rest for a while. It was tranquil except for the river's singing and birds' sporadic twiddle from the forest. He was on his back, facing the clear blue sky and the moving clouds.
The sound of footsteps broke the silence. Ralph raised his eyes and leaned on elbows. A running boy knocked into his sight. He was looking back, staring directly at Ralph. His eyes were brown, completely different from Ralph's. But Ralph certainly felt some kind of familiarity, and a mysterious and strong affinity like that boy in his dream. Ralph suddenly wanted to stop him but found he didn't even know the boy's name. His lovely rose cheeks were perhaps caused by the wind blowing, Ralph thought, or maybe bashful color. The boy's hair was also brown, a little short and messy, set off the crystalline eyes. His lips were unmeantly luring people to kiss them deeply and with whole passion. The boy's clothes were not fit for this wonderful Adonis at all, ragged and shabby but couldn't deny his beauty beneath. His feet were bare, and reddish because of the cool water. The boy kept rushing towards the castle. Ralph looked at him until he became farther and farther then disappeared over the horizon. It was a dream again? Ralph suspected, but it was too real, even touchable, to be only a dream. While thinking, he couldn't wait to run back to the castle. He never had been so eager to return to it.
"Who's he?" He couldn't help asking the very first servant he saw and almost knocked down, with full excitement.
"Who Master?" the servant replied curiously.
"A new boy! Is he a new helper or what?"
"I am sorry, Master Ralph. But I really don't know that. You'd better ask Mr. Frost for that..."
"Oh, yes, yes. He was the chamberlain. Mr. Frost should know it. Well, You can go now." Mr. Frost? No. A pair of viperous eyes appeared, which were seeking for their potential prey like an eagle all the times. But it was not appropriate for him to find by himself in the castle, which was full of various people. Ralph soon got an idea: 'Better find someone to help me.'
He ran to the library that was left by one of his ancestors and had a lot of strange books in Roman and Greek. As expected, Humphrey was there, reading some old scripts. This young man was tall and thin, had a pale face, about 25 or so. He was the chaplain of the Earl. But he was kind and had an active mind, so he became the only friend Ralph had in this boring place.
"Humphrey?" Ralph stepped in, curiously looked into the script that Humphrey read
"Oh it's you, Master Ralph. I hadn't noticed." He put away the book immediately. "So?"
Ralph was puzzled by his reaction, but he didn't mind much. "Do you know there is a new boy in this castle?"
"A new boy? Let me think, maybe one. The cook said he just got a new helper. What's wrong?"
"No, no...nothing, just curious." replied Ralph. "Well, I will go."
Then Ralph quickly went out, leaving the chaplain mumbling something.
It was at the kitchen. Ralph didn't find the cook; he must have been drunk again, for there was plenty of beer in the storage room. He entered quietly and found a boy standing by the table. He could see from the side. The boy was cutting up the onion and was obliged to wipe his eyes with his sleeves very often. It make he seem more beautiful, in those crystal tears, rolling down from his cheek. Ralph was almost fascinated by this scene. There were only they two in this room. Almost unbearable silence provoked his impulsion again.
"What...what's your... name, lad?" Ralph stammered.
The boy turned in surprise. He wanted to wipe his tears with his hand, but only made it worse. "The damned onion!" He murmured and tried to use his sleeves. His face turned a little red, seeming to be very uncomfortable to be seen in such a situation. Ralph immediately found his handkerchief and handed it to him. It helped a lot. The boy soon stopped "crying". He then stared directly in Ralph's eyes, which made Ralph feel a little embarrassed, and blushed.
He realized the high rank of the boy whom he saw earlier, then replied with his eyes fixing at the floor "Roger, Sir"
Then the silence returned. They both stood still, facing each other and said nothing until Ralph mustered courage and asked again, "So how did you come here?"
"Just like my father, he was a servant here, Sir."
"Then where is he?" Ralph spoke aimlessly, trying to continue the conversation
"He died, a few weeks ago..." (without lifting his eyes), "Sir."
"Oh I am sorry." Ralph could nearly not find anything to say.
"But it doesn't matter much indeed, he was no more than a irresponsible father." Roger looked away.
"Fathers are all alike," Ralph said to himself, he even couldn't remember exactly when his father was at home the last time, maybe five or six months ago. The old Earl didn't pay as much attention to his children as to his desire of the power and fame. Besides, he was very severe and irascible, people in the castle were all afraid of him, including Ralph. But he left for too long this time, for a travel to another manor. Ralph didn't care; at least it left him some peaceful time.
"Oh, here is your handkerchief, Master." Roger said timidly, and returned it to Ralph. "Thank you very much, Sir."
Ralph reached out, but held Roger's hands instead of the handkerchief. Roger was surprised, and so was Ralph himself. Ralph was bewildered at that moment. Now the boy was so close to him that he could, (and actually was now) be holding him. The feeling of the dream rose again, an unclear image mixed with a live reality, without a shadow of question. He could ever see Roger's smooth chest heaving slightly from the loosening opening of his fluttering rags and feel the rhythm of Roger's breath and Ralph's own heartbeats. What a comely boy he is! thought Ralph, the tanned and brown boy was a magical charm.
Roger withdrew his hand abashingly. And Ralph let it slide back.
"I am sorry, Sir," Roger said timidly.
Ralph was puzzled by his act and remained wordless. Then he found he made this boy very uneasy. He answered with a semi smile "That's not your fault, lad. Well you can continue to do your work."
"Yes Sir. Thank you."
"No 'Sir', call me Ralph, alight?"
"But it was not right..."
"Who cares? Then I order you, to call me RALPH."
"...Yes...Sir...Ralph."
"That's much better now, you may go on to do with those onions. I hope your eyes are not aching now," Ralph said, turning back to the door and walking out happily. Roger was still confused
Ralph could not help laughing, now there was a boy in his castle, he didn't have to go chasing after the ghost in the dream anymore. He must be sent by an angel. I saw him, talked to him and even touched him, that moment was more beautiful than the heaven in the dream. I can stare at him everyday as I behold every bit of beauty of my life. But what after? A question rose suddenly. Ralph felt like he was falling back to earth from the high cloud. What after? He sighed and slowed down his pace, lost in deep thought.
At night, Ralph couldn't sleep, Roger's face appeared in the air. He just couldn't close his eyes and neglect it for a moment. He was naked as usual, lying in his bed. There was a knock at the door and then came the familiar sound: "Sir... Ralph, the chamberlain asked me to bring your supper upstairs since you didn't have any tonight. Would you like to..." It was Roger. Ralph didn't wait until he finished and answered: "Yes, of course, I want my supper, come in, the door isn't locked." He completely forgot he didn't have a single piece of cloth on. The door opened and Roger entered with food in one hand and a candle in the other. A dim light of a candle was enough to reveal everything in the dark. Ralph was just smiling and stood up, but he soon discovered it from the strange look on Roger's face. He grasped a blanket in a frantic rush and blunderingly wrapped his body up. He was in such a hurry, he was struggling with the cloth. But it fell again and stumbled Ralph when he tried to turn. "Ouch!" Ralph cried. Roger was standing at the door and started to laugh. The fighting between the blanket and poor nude Ralph was so funny. It diluted the initial shock. Roger put the candle away and helped him stand up. Ralph's face was completely red. He was exposed in front of the other boy and warm hands were around his body. What's worse, Roger was laughing. A naughty idea jumped out. He stretched up and caught Roger's hands then threw him onto his bed behind. Roger was attacked by surprise and didn't resist. Ralph then pressed him firmly on the bed, and whispered: "You dare laugh! I'll strip you. I order you to strip! Now!" Roger kept laughing and started to strive to escape. They both forgot their status, immersing in the innocent triumph of the childish revenge game.
Although Roger was sturdy because of the daily work, Ralph was more skillful at battle. He soon got the upper hand. In the end of the jolly fighting, both of them were naked and sweaty. Ralph didn't let Roger go. They nestled closely together, wheezingly. It was amazing that their strangeness would go with their clothes. They were like old friends, playing free and easy. They were appreciating the other's body, with eyes where the flame of passion grew. Ralph straightened up, and seriously looked at Roger. He leaned down slowly, approached the boy and then caressed him. Roger couldn't believe this but he didn't reject or flee. Instead, he replied with an instinctive kiss.
"Je t'aime" Ralph whisper in Roger's ear.
"What?" Roger did not know French, as it was a language for nobles at that time. But he smiled. It seemed that smile would not diminished from his face.
"It's...I...I love you." Ralph now found, surprisingly, that sometimes English was even harder than French.
"It's not right..." Roger said softly. "Not right at all. But love is worth it, even if I must sacrifice my life for it. I love you too, Ralph"
"Thank you..." Ralph kissed him again. He felt Roger's hands were rambling on his back and going lower and lower from his neck. Roger's arms were clasping him. He got hotter and hotter as if there were something burning in his chest. He had to stop kissing and raised up to breathe the cool air. He could see the tiny sweat beads on Roger's forehead. The window was open and only the moon was looking at them.
"Stop, stop..." Roger whispered
"Why?" Ralph relied in an obviously disappointed voice.
"I happened to see one young man and his girl did this." Roger winked mystically. "Now do as I tell you, will you?" He raised his body and waited for Ralph's answer.
"Alright." Ralph didn't know what he wanted to do, but he certainly noticed Roger's hard as well as his own.
"Good." Roger then lowered his head to Ralph's crotch. His breathing tickled Ralph a little. Ralph crossed his leg and twisted his toes slightly nervously. Suddenly he was shocked by unexpected pleasure. Roger's lips wrapped his cock. That warmth was like an electric current sent from below directly to his heart. He was trembling with excitement.
"Don't move," Roger made an unclear grumble.
"Sorry, oh, oh..."--it became intermittent whimpers
Roger's hands were on Ralph's thigh. His tongue was busy licking around. Ralph was dizzy. His fingers were caressing Roger's hair and pulling him closer. His body began to tense up. The orgasm was intensified minute by minute. It seemed like a magic secret garden that he had never known about before. "Ouch!" He shouted as Roger stopped. He came, for the first time in his life. He was puffing and lay feebly. His muscle relaxed. Roger climbed next to him. He whispered in his ears: "Are you all right?"
"Yes." He drew Roger's hands and pressed it on his chest. His body clung to Roger without any interspaces. They cuddled together and were almost about to fall asleep.
"Listen! There are footsteps!" Roger watchfully straightened up.
"Go! Quick! Lock that door!" Ralph pushed Roger to the ajar door. It was closed with a loud noise. The footsteps quickened.
Who will come? Ralph anxiously tried to figure out. Roger took hold of his hands. It made him feel more relieved..
"Master Ralph? Is there anything wrong?"
Oh no, it's Mr. Frost! For God's sake, don't let him smell out anything, Ralph prayed. "I am all right. What's the matter?"
"I just received a message from your father saying he would be back tomorrow and ..."
"I know that now." Ralph tried to get rid of him. "I am tired. Leave it to tomorrow."
"If so." Mr. frost replied skeptically "As you request. Goodnight Master." He stood at the door for a while and finally left.
Roger and Ralph felt at ease then both sat on the floor and leaned to the door. "What might have happened if we were discovered?" Ralph mumbled.
"Be burnt like a witch." Roger looked serious and added, "Definitely."
Ralph was surprised until Roger burst out a laugh. They giggled uncontrollably. Ralph stopped and gently rubbed Roger's arms.
"Promise me." He paused. "Don't walk away from me, no matter what happens."
"I promise," Roger answered solemnly, without hesitancy.
"Thank you, thank you." Ralph stroked Roger's face. "You cannot go out tonight. Stay here, we have a whole night." The smile appeared again.
Roger didn't say anything. He just immersed in Ralph's tender embrace.