by Luke, Monica
The man groaned in anguish, as Belon pushed harder with his boot and cried out, “I meant no harm!”
Slowly, Belon removed his foot; then kicked over the chair with him in it, and as he fell backwards to the floor, he looked at him scornfully, as he kneeled beside him.
“Laugh at me again,” he threatened in his face, “And I will make true my words to you.”
The man’s head bobbled, as he promptly nodded; then rose and scurried out of the men’s hall, and after Belon watched him leave. He slowly walked back to his chair again, and sat back down in the corner.
Chapter 19
Now common practice, at the end of the day Laad spoke with Irek about his day, and all that went on in the king’s court, as well as with the men; but when he mentioned the trouble with Belon and Ogorec, Irek sighed.
“Such was my fear,” he voiced his earlier trepidation.
“Speak.” Laad urged curiously, “What fear?”
“Of one scorned seeking revenge on other.”
Laad looked at him puzzled. “Revenge, why?”
Irek crossed his hands onto his stomach; then looked at his ring on left hand and twisted it around.
“Belon and Ogorec,” he revealed, “Were lovers.”
Laad grimaced, as he thought of them together; then began to think back of anything that could have caused them to fight each other so viciously.
“Never would I have reasoned,” he voiced, while he thought hard, before his eyes widened when he realized why, “The young guild.”
“What young guild?”
“Ovfren,” he recalled, “Before the men journeyed into the nomad camp, Ogorec asked me to have him ride in also. I reasoned nothing of it, yet now I know why.”
“Hmmm,” Irek said, as he thought of his talk with Belon before he took ill, “Then he is the one who divided them.”
Knowing any rise of contention between them could mean trouble; Laad sought advice from Laad on how to deal with it.
“Should I have them brought before the king and removed from place?”
Irek pondered the idea within his head, but for a moment.
“Deep within,” he then voiced, “I have held my tongue wondering if Bayl or Baric knew of this. The two had been lovers for some time for them to not.”
“They are strong leaders and brave,” Laad added his own guess of maybe if they knew was why they spoke nothing of it.
“Yes, they are,” Irek agreed instantly.
“It would weigh on me to remove them.”
“And that is how I feel as well,” the reply almost instant.
“Then why did you keep this from me?”
“When I became ill, I began to understand there is only one true judge of men.” Irek’s defense, as again he twirled his ring around this finger.
His mind riddled with thoughts, Laad said nothing back and stared out the window.
“Laad,” Irek called him over to him when after a while he had said nothing.
“Yes.”
“Worry not with Belon and Ogorec,” he said, “Other hidden truths made known within these walls will make all speak of nothing else if you wish it so.”
“Again with veiled words and are we back on that again?” Laad asked, annoyed and walked back close to his bed, “Why do you speak to me in such a way as of lately?”
“Then I will be straight forth,” Irek said, after more twirls of his ring, “I swore to hold my words to save your life as someone powerful sought to end it.”
“You swore what?” Curiously, Laad asked as he now stood and got right over Irek, “You swore what?”
“Not to speak of your true bloodline -”
” Laad looked at him oddly. “Bloodline?”
“Boek cared for you until he died,” he revealed, “But was not your true father.”
As if he had seen a ghost, Laad looked horrorstruck. His speech left him and he stumbled back plopping his body down hard into the chair.
“Laad, Laad,” Irek called out to him; then tried to raise himself from his bed, “Laad.”
“I am here,” he finally said, after a long pause.
Stunted briefly by Irek’s statement, he knew he had been a long time friend of his father and remembered how they often talked late into the nights in front of the fire as he slept in low voices of secret things.
“Then, who is my father?” he finally asked, when Irek offered nothing else on his own.
“Your father was one great.”
“Are your words?” Laad asked, in disbelief, “That my father was a high commander.”
“… far greater,” he answered; then took the ring from his the finger on his left hand and held it up, “Take it.”
When Laad took it, he held it tightly, but didn’t put it on his finger.
“Why such words now?” he questioned, “I have known you since before I could walk, and all this time you spoke nothing.”
“I promised to speak nothing until the time was right,” Irek confessed, “I kept my word.”
His curiosity getting the best of him, Laad slide his chair closer to Irek’s bed.
“Reveal all you have withheld from me,” he said eager, yet wary of actually knowing.
“You came into this world not by love, but duty,” Irek revealed, “Your mother young and beautiful was sent to warm his bed at night, as he trembled unable to warm himself. One of those nights, he lay with her and from it she became with child.”
“Whose bed had my mother warmed?” Laad asked. The little bit of color that had come back to his face gone again. His jaws clenched tightly from anticipation and dread of Irek’s revelation.
“The king.”
Laad shook his head dismissing Irek now certain he spoke outlandish tales of lore because he was dying, just as he did long ago when he spoke of planting a seed.
“Irek,” Laad said, now believing Irek’s words senseless, “Dare you reveal to me that I am the son of King Rone?”
“No,” Irek said, and sighed with relief to finally have it come off his tongue, “… his brother.”
**
Ogorec rode out behind Baric who was on his way to visit farming villages, and as they passed the long courtyard, the guilds rode in from the glens and passed them.
When Ovfren rode by Ogorec, just as he had promised, he didn’t behave as if didn’t know him, as he did before and nodded to him.
Ovfren slowed nodded back and kept riding, but when Ogorec looked at him closely, he noticed a gash bleeding on his arm and turned his horse to find out what happened.
“My lord,” he called out to Baric, as he turned, “I must have a word with one of the guilds.”
As he made his way down the line of horses, when Ovfren saw him coming, he stopped.
“What befell you?” Ogorec asked concerned when he caught up to him.
Oddly, Ovfren looked at him.
“Befell?” he repeated, “Nothing befell me.”
“And the gash in your arm?” Ogorec questioned not believing him, as he looked at it more, “How did you get it?”
Ovfren laughed.
“This day we trained hard with the lances and shields.” He now remembered, “I did well, but did not come out of it unmarked.”
Although, Ovfren laughed, Ogorec thought it far from funny. As within him, he fretted over Ovfren’s skill. He had risen to the status of a low guild, but still not skilled enough to be a high one.
“I see,” Ogorec said, but kept his thoughts within, “Join the line,” he added and motioned with his head; then rode back to Baric.
As he followed Baric to the villages, his mind ran with thoughts of Ovfren’s gash. It was minor, but as he thought of an enemy’s sword slashing him through, he became worried.
He thought of how Ovfren did well with the men in the Valley of Tul and even saved him, but they came across no one else to battle to hone his skill, and prepare him for the more hardened warriors or savages determined to slay him.
Early that morning,
as again the guilds rode out to the glens; Ogorec was waiting on his horse to ride out with them.
“Aron a word,” Ogorec said, when he passed him.
Once, Ogorec and Aron were out of earshot of the others, Ogorec spoke his concern. “The guild Ovfren fought well in the Valley as Tul, yet his skill is still weak. Teach him such that his skill becomes stronger.”
“All do I train for such,” Aron spouted, insulted and annoyed, “Are breasts on me that you want me feed him milk to strengthen him? You trained once before you moved in place, you do it.”
Irritated by his haranguing words, Ogorec jaws tightened knowing if he wanted to, he could command him to do it, but should he, it would raise the eyebrows of many.
“Then so be it,” Ogorec agreed, “I will train him.”
**
Now certain Irek spoke out of his head from illness, Laad decided not to heed his words about his bloodline, yet they stayed within him and plagued him such that he remained in bed.
Always awake before she woke, when Nona awoke and saw Laad still in bed next to her, she turned and faced him.
“Husband,” she gently, shook him, “You lay past your time.”
Although, already awake, but still in bed, Laad turned to her.
“I am not rising out of bed,” he said, then closed his eyes and pretended to go back to sleep.”
Puzzled, Nona leaned onto her arm and looked at him, then leaned in and kissed him on his chin.
“Husband,” she said, and playfully poked him in his side, “Rise, one such as you cannot sleep away your day in bed. You watch over many and much.”
“No,” he said, “I am not rising.”
Thinking nothing of it, Nona pulled the furs off him.
“Rise sleepy one,” she said louder, still playfully, “Up, up.”
Without realizing how frightening he was being, Laad sat up when Nona pulled the furs off him.
“It is I who give commands!” he shouted harshly, as he looked at her, “Not you Eeilnona! Do not let your tongue out step your place to give me orders when to rise, lay, eat, and sleep. If it is my will to lay here and do nothing, then I shall, and you will not pester me about it!”
While he shouted, Nona looked at him wide-eyed and stunned.
“Do you understand?” he asked, when she offered no response.
“I, I understand,” she answered sadly, hurt by his blaring harsh words.
Her eyes stayed wide, as she looked at Laad in utter disbelief he had become so agitated with her only trying to get him out of bed. And when he leaped out of bed to go relieve himself, about voice how deeply he wounded her, she silenced herself fearing more harsh words would follow.
Instead, she also got out of bed; then walked to the window, and looked out to keep Laad from noticing her eyes had filled and were about to release a flood of tears.
After Laad relieved himself, he walked back to the bed; then as he plopped annoyingly down and turned onto his side facing away from the window to go back to sleep, or pretend to, he inhaled and exhaled loudly upset with himself.
Dramatically, he flipped onto his other side facing the other way, then when he heard her sniffling quietly; he suddenly sprang from the bed, and walked to the window.
Standing next to her, he looked out with her, occasionally glancing sideways at the side of her beautiful face, then after both stood for several minutes, when she turned to walk away without glancing up at him or speaking, he gently grabbed her arm and pulled her to him.
“Forgive me,” his heartfelt plea, as he quickly put his arms around her; then looked into her wet glassy eyes, “Please forgive me, my beloved.”
Tenderly, not waiting for her to speak, he kissed her on her forehead; then moved to her salty teary eyes, and her soft lips.
“Such harsh words from this mouth that kisses you,” he said between his kisses, “Such harsh words to one I love so deeply.”
Nona closed her eyes when he apologized and kissed her, and melted into his arms.
“Oh, husband,” she softly spoke, “What brought such angered words out of you to me.”
“My head is plagued from words Irek spoke to me,” he confessed, “And though I hold nothing from you, this I cannot reveal to you to keep you safe.”
Nona sighed in the arms of the only she would ever love.
“Just know,” she assured him, “What plagues you, plagues me.”
As he held her, Laad walked her backwards back to their bed, still kissing her tenderly.
“I want to make right my harsh words,” he said, as he leaned her onto their bed; then lay upon her and gently parted her thighs with his knee, “And begin our day again. Will you let me?”
“Umm yes,” Nona whispered her answer while wrapping her arms around him, as his hand slowly moved up her thigh, “My body enjoys when we begin our day with such pleasure.”
**
Ogorec’s will determined, when Baric remained within WorrlgenHall, which now seemed often because he devoted much of his time being alone with his bride Ecia and son. He sent for Ovfren to train him away from others into the woods to help strengthen his skill.
Each time Ovfren rode to him, after he jumped from his horse, before all else, he greeted Ogorec with a tender kiss on his lips, and right away the training began,
“What do you have for me this day?” Ovfren cheerfully asked, one morning.
“This day is the last day of your training if you can do it with ease?” Ogorec gladly revealed, happy with Ovfren’s progress and pointed to trees, then gave him a practice sword, “Take the bark from the trees on all sides without cutting into it.”
Ovfren looked at the trees, then back to Ogorec.
“Such a task.” He doubted, and slightly laughed. “It cannot be done.”
Ogorec merely looked at Ovfren without smiling to let him know he was not joking; then after huffing, Ovfren took the sword and flailed at the tree cutting into it each time.
“Curses!” his frustrated yell to Ogorec, “This task is not a simple one and is useless. If this tree were a man, would I not slice into him?”
Not speaking right away, Ogorec walked in front of Ovfren and took the sword from his hand.
“Simple it is to thrust and slice at a man,” he said, as he sliced the bark from the tree all the way around without putting even a small nick in the wood; then walked to another tree and did the same with his opposite hand equally well.
Ovfren’s eyes followed him in complete amazement.
“The skill comes from practicing controlling the sword in your hands. If you can control the strength in your arm as you use your sword, you control how well and quickly you kill your enemy.”
“Just as long as I kill him,” Ovfren said, “Is not of worry to me, just that he is dead.”
“Ovfren,” Ogorec called his name annoyed with him, “Do not you use all your strength and take up time, as well, thrusting and slicing away at one man, when a horde of others are all around you trying to kill you. Make your strike quick and with deadly aim and move on to the next one.”
“Thrusting,” Ovfren roguishly smiled, “As I stand here the only thrusting that comes to mind is thrusting into you.”
“Then I shall offer you a reward after your task.” Ogorec’s incentive, “You will not thrust into me until you can do what I have told you.”
“No.” Ovfren pouted, “The scale is not even.”
“Even or not,” Ogorec said, as he got on his horse, “If done you have a reward. If not ...”
“If not what?” asked Ovfren, as he frowned.
Ogorec slyly smiled. “You keep training, and suffer from want for me until you can do it.”
Now angered, Ovfren stuck the sword into the earth.
“Pull it up,” Ogorec ordered.
Waiting defiantly, Ovfren didn’t at first, but pulled it out when Ogorec’s face went stern.
“When I return,” he charged, as he rode in front of him, “I want it done with ease and well.�
�
Ovfren frowned again, but said nothing, as he watched Ogorec ride away.
“Curses,” he said aloud, and picked up the sword.
After, leaving him alone for most of the day, Ogorec returned with food and water for Ovfren, but as he rode in, he exhaled disappointed when he looked at the trees around him noticing all had nicks and deep groves.
“Look who comes back,” he said sarcastically, as he stood and watched Ogorec get off his horse and walk to him.
“Eat,” Ogorec said, and gave him the food.
As Ovfren ate, Ogorec walked around looking at the trees, all notched he did notice the notches not as deep as the trees lined farther down.
“You are faring better with each one,” he said; then walked back to him and sat.
Ovfren looked at him trying to sway him with his smile.
“I ask for mercy,” he said when he did; “We are alone as the sun sets. Soon darkness will be upon us, and I want to be upon you.”
“My words are unchanged,” Ogorec said resolved, “But I am not a merciless man. I will race you to the river, and should you get there first, I will give you one small reward you enjoy.”
At once, Ovfren stood. “So be it.”
As both stood next to the other, Ogorec shouted for them to start, even giving him a slight head start, but Ovfren, younger and faster, made it to the river long before Ogorec, then once Ogorec reached the river, he fell onto his back.
“Aahh.” He groaned out of breath, “I am winded.”
Breathing hard too, Ovfren sat beside Ogorec.
“My winded love,” Ovfren tenderly said when he leaned over to kiss him.
“Let me get my wind again.” Ogorec panted playfully.
“We do not have all night for such,” Ovfren teased, as he stood; then pulled Ogorec up, “Come.”
As both walked into the forest, Ogorec put his hand on the back of Ovfren’s neck, and his fingers into his curly hair.
