by Luke, Monica
“I could be very late,” he warned.
“Then I will be here.” Ovfren smiled, “Waiting for you within.”
**
After he left Ogorec, Ovfren met up with the guilds to ride to out to check the boundaries, and six in all decided to ride in twos to them.
“I will ride with Ovfren,” Augerd volunteered before any decided who would ride with whom.
Quickly, all rode out, then once on the road, broke from each other to check the boundaries.
While Ovfren and Augerd rode; Augerd said nothing to Ovfren, but once they reached the first boundary, became chatty.
“This one is broken down.” Augerd noticed and jumped down, then got pitch from a bucket and began to restack it.
Getting off his horse to help, as Ovfren handed him some fallen stones, he looked at him and smiled.
“Never have we had words,” he said, “But I have wanted to speak to you, but you are never in the men’s hall for long.”
“When I am free,” Ovfren offered, “I am within my cottage.”
Augerd took a rock from Ovfren’s hand.
“Still I am glad for this,” he said, as he did.
A long space between their words, Augerd repaired the marker glancing at Ovfren when he turned his head every chance he could, then when they began to ride to the next one on a different road, again he starting talking as they rode.
“Dare I offend,” Augerd said, as they road, but looked straight ahead, “You are a good rider.”
“I am not offended.”
“And look handsome on your horse as you ride,” he added.
His last comment made Ovfren suddenly stop, as Augerd kept riding.
“What were you words?” he asked, as he looked at him and frowned, certain he wouldn’t repeat it.
“My words were you look handsome Ovfren,” Augerd stopped and willingly repeated, “And if such words offend then forgive me. I had hoped for a smile, instead of a frown.”
Ovfren gave Augerd a distrustful look unsure how to take his comment. He was about the same age as he or just a few years older, with deep brown hair, and from what Ovfren could see from where he was on his horse, eyes that looked the color of a clear lake, and if he had not been deeply in love, probably would have thought he was handsome.
“There is only one that pleases my eyes,” Ovfren made certain to make clear to him, and avidly, “And well above all.”
“Ah,” Augerd commented, as his chin lifted, “And it is Ogorec.”
“Then you know?”
“As do well all, yet you are still flesh and blood and my words as before, handsome.”
“If it is known, then why would you speak to me in such a way?” Ovfren curiously asked.
“I will gather,” he answered. “Ogorec did not know he was handsome in your eyes, until you made it known to him.”
Ovfren thought about his comment, and agreed with its logic.
“Such is true,” he said, and began to ride again.
“Dare my boldness be more,” Augerd added, as they casually rode, “The sight of you stirs me and has me rigid, and if such is the same for you, we are alone – shall we enjoy the other and speak it to no one?”
Again, Ovfren stopped, but this time looked at him hatefully.
“That is bold,” he said, now offended.
“We are scaled in age more,” he quickly added, “Ogorec is well older than you are – have you not wanted to know the feel of someone your own age?”
Upset to almost seething, he fought to control his words, as he griped his horse’s reins tightly.
“You have offended me. Willingly I love only him and am faithful as is my fate for as long as I breathe, and such is your fate to fall by his sword when I reveal your words to him.”
Alarmed, Augerd eyes went to Ovfren filled with fear.
“Why bring about such a fate to me?” he asked, at once, “I only spoke what I reasoned you would enjoy as well.”
Ovfren frowned even more.
“I would not, so keep your tongue from speaking to me in that way,” he said adamantly
“I hope to keep my head upon my shoulders as well.” Augerd’s fear, as he thought of Vron.
“Just as I have spoken, let no more words such as that fall off your tongue to me,” Ovfren made perfectly clear, “And no words will fall off mine to him of this.”
Augerd’s head eagerly nodded letting Ovfren know he understood him fully, then when both finished repairing the stone markers, met up with the others, and returned WorrlgenHall.
**
Ogorec rode with Baric to the villages, and just as both knew would happen, Baric listened to them bicker over the well most of the day, then plead their sides until finally, Baric had heard enough and decided the villagers would switch days on its use, instead of all gathering together, and all agreed.
Once back at WorrlgenHall, he went to see Belon as planned, and after he quietly knocked and waited for him to ask him in, when he said nothing, walked inside anyway, and saw Belon lying awake in bed.
“Did you hear the knock?” he asked, as he came farther inside.
“Yes,” Belon answered, his eyes looking at the ceiling.
Knowing he was troubled, Ogorec walked to the table, then got a chair and carried it close to the bed to sit down.
“I know your sadness,” he said, “But you cannot stay hidden.”
“Why can I not?” he questioned, “Lord Bayl is dead and needs no guard, and who I loved now loves another.”
“Belon,” Ogorec said, “We will not speak of the last, but you are still first in command…you are needed.”
“Needed by you as well?” he questioned hopeful.
Ogorec took a calming breath through his nostrils trying not to become agitated with his now tiresome suggestive hints of hope.
“You knew the answer,” he said, “Before you asked the question.”
Again rejected, Belon turned on his side away from Ogorec. “Leave me.”
Supportively, Ogorec stood and put his hand on Belon’s shoulder, and when he did, Belon quickly reached out and squeezed it tightly, before he lay flat on his back again.
“I have no one,” he sighed, as he looked up to him, “And from it there are times I fear that I will die alone just as I live, with no one to love or mourn for me should something befall me.”
“You have many willing to be with you,” Ogorec knew well, “And often.”
“And yet still I have no one to only love me from deep within them, and I be all to them.”
Unsure what else he could say or do for him, Ogorec sighed.
“Belon,” he said curiously, “What do you want from me?”
“Dare I make you end you life to ask,” he said sarcastically, remembering his words to him as they rode not long ago, “But would lying beside me bring about such a fate?”
The expression on Ogorec’s face making it clear that he was about to say no.
“It is only you lying beside me,” Belon said, before he could, “And we will not touch.”
Although reluctant, Ogorec carefully got beside Belon, but made certain they did not touch by keeping the distance at least a stretched hand span between their bodies.
“Long has it been for such,” Belon said, as he inhaled pleased.
Ogorec didn’t respond to the comment. “Have you spoken to Moura of what is within you?”
“No.”
Belon turned to look at Ogorec, and did for a long time before he spoke again.
“You are still pleasing to look upon,” he confessed, “And still true to your well made form, yet you had more of a beard with me.
“Ovfren likes it close to my face and low on my chin. It is as this to please him.”
“Still your face stands out above any other. I have always enjoyed looking at it, as well as your body, and I wish I had spoken it more to you.”
“From only one mouth,” Ogorec let him know right away, “Will I welcome words such as that
to me Belon.”
“Those words came from me,” he reminded him, “Long before from him.”
“Will we go this course again?” Ogorec asked, as he failed to keep from becoming agitated, “I came here to know of your state, not hear your regret.”
“Regret,” he repeated, “I spoke no words of such, but...”
“There is no need to speak it,” Ogorec interrupted.
Quickly, Belon rose onto his side more, and looked at Ogorec.
“I do feel regret,” his rueful words, “Such was my love for you, yet so vain was I, I did indeed have my way with women when with you, and am filled with it from foot to head.”
Ogorec said nothing, as he listened.
“He, young and untouched, knew only the feel of you, and I gather still only knows of one,” Belon said, “…you.”
“This is known to me,” Ogorec said, “What of it?”
Belon looked away, letting his mind wander back on how they once laid on his bed and talked, which now seemed so long ago.
“Belon.” Ogorec sensed Belon was thinking of their past, “Your mind is wandering, and I fear to that of what it should not.”
Deeply believing somewhere within Ogorec was still a flame for him, Belon again tried to put doubt in Ogorec about Ovfren.
“Ogorec,” Belon spoke his concern of Ogorec’s blind love for Ovfren, and still slightly jealous, “Reason he kept himself untouched only to win you, and now might yearn to know how another would feel.”
Ogorec shook his head, and knew what Belon was suggesting.
“I fear our words of this will never end,” he expressed, “Belon, fate is fate. If he had not come to me in life, deep within I know my want for you would be the same, and still without love.”
“Your words wound me,” Belon confessed.
“They were not spoken to wound,” Ogorec said, “Just a truth.”
Belon inhaled; then put his hands behind his head and looked up.
“Bond yourself to Moura,” Ogorec suggested hoping to reach him, “You have one that cares for you, and receives you when you go to her. Do not push her from you.”
Belon nodded, but offered no response.
“I will leave,” Ogorec said, and added when he stood, “Go to her and let her be your comfort.”
Ogorec got out of bed, and again put his hand on Belon’s shoulder.
“A friend you are to me,” he told him, “And shall always be.”
“I will welcome such.” Belon nodded; then began to rise, as he watched Ogorec leave his chamber.
After Ogorec walked down the hallway, Belon heard a knock at his chamber door; then when he opened it and saw Augerd standing outside it, quickly pulled him inside.
“Speak it,” Belon said impatiently.
“He is well true to him,” Augerd said; then opened his hand.
Belon groaned at his failed attempt to try Ovfren, then quickly gave him silver coins, but as he was about to put away his pouch, Augerd gave him an odd look.
“My deed was great,” Augerd added. His greed feeding him, “He warned he would speak to Ogorec if I spoke to him again in such a way.”
Belon huffed, but gave him more.
“You deed is great with me as well,” he warned him too, “Speak of it to anyone and suffer my wrath.”
When Augerd left, Belon inhaled disappointed. Slightly envious of their love for the other, he longed to feel that kind of love; then after he inhaled deeply once more, left his chamber, and as Ogorec suggested went to Moura.
**
After his words with Belon, Ogorec rode to his chamber, and the time late, noticed Ovfren sound asleep lying in bed, but on top of the blankets from the heat.
Quietly, he walked inside and put away his swords before he undressed and climbed in bed next to him.
“Mm Ogorec,” Ovfren groggily said, and stretched, “Forgive me, I was sleepy and could not stay awake.”
“There is nothing to forgive,” Ogorec said, and moved close to him to go to sleep, “Go back to sleep.”
Ogorec closed his eyes to sleep, but the hot air still and stifling, he couldn’t relax, and tossed and turned trying to adjust to a comfortable position.
“What bothers you?” Ovfren finally sat up, and asked, as each time he did, woke him.
“It is this heat,” Ogorec irritably said, but Belon’s words to him about Ovfren also bothered him, “If inside WorrlgenHall at least we would be high for the wind to blow inside the window.”
When Ovfren sat up, Ogorec looked at the outline of his face. He looked at his brow and the cut above it, then at his nose and mouth, and smiled at how his face had matured making him even more handsome than he already was.
“What is it?” Ovfren asked, when he noticed him studying his face, “That made you gaze at me for so long.”
“Such a cherished gift you are to me and have known only the feel of me,” Ogorec said, needing to speak what bothered him, “I ask for a truth from you.”
“All my words to you have been only truth,” Ovfren said proudly.
“Have you wanted to know the feel of another, either man or woman while you have been with me?”
“Such a question you ask me?” Ovfren asked surprised by it and inwardly wondered if he knew what happened earlier, “What words were between you and Belon?”
“You ask me one,” Ogorec said fearful of his answer, “Without answering mine.”
“Does he now cause you to question my want for you?” he asked defensively, “Is that why you cannot sleep?
“Ovfren such passion we have, yet should I fear my question?” Ogorec blurted, not meaning to upset him, but compelled to speak what now bothered him, “I would burn from within and be overcome if within you is a desire to know how any would feel other than me.”
Ovfren looked at Ogorec devotedly, and decided not to become upset from his question, or worry if he knew about the incident earlier because he did nothing wrong.
“Before you were mine,” he confessed, while he lovingly looked at Ogorec’s face and thought back in time, “I woke to visions of you, and more than I care to speak; my hand was my embrace to those visions before I fell asleep. All this, I felt long before you became mine, so how can you reason from such desire, I would want another when all I have wanted since hair grew well on me was you Ogorec?”
Ogorec put his head on Ovfren’s shoulder. “I am such a mad man to ask such.”
“Yes, mad is your thick head,” he agreed with him, “To reason such notions would come to me when I have so great a man as you.”
“Forgive me for asking,” he said, well pleased with Ovfren’s words of truth before he kissed him.
“Lets us sleep,” Ovfren said, and put his leg over Ogorec’s legs.
“Let us,” Ogorec agreed and rested on his back, but still hot, as he lay for a while, he exhaled uncomfortable.
“Rise and dress Ogorec.” Ovfren huffed lightheartedly, and jumped out of bed, then began to dress, “With haste.”
“Why?” Ogorec said, as he quickly rose to obey.
“We are sleeping outside by the river,” Ovfren told him, and smiled, “Soon enough the wind will blow off the water and cool you.”
Pleased with the thought, Ogorec grabbed their swords and some blankets to lie on for the night.
“Hurry,” Ogorec said eagerly, while waiting by the door, “So I can hold you as well.”
“Let us go,” Ovfren said, while rushing pass him.
Ogorec jumped on his horse, then as Ovfren was about to jump on his, Ogorec stopped him.
“Get behind me on mine, so that as we ride I can feel you pressed behind me and touching on me.”
Ovfren laughed.
“I am riding my own horse,” he teased, “And when we get there, you can feel me pressed behind you in other ways as I touch on you.”
Pleased, Ogorec laughed, and rode away with Ovfren right behind him.
**
As Loth walked down the hallway on his way
to speak with Laad, one he trusted called him over to him.
“A word,” he discreetly whispered, while he looked this way and that way.
From the expression on his face when he whispered, Loth knew the matter was serious, but he said nothing at that moment. Instead, he acknowledged him by nodding, and kept walking.
Knowing to follow, but not closely, the man stayed behind him; then once away from any listening ears, spoke.
“Someone heard your words to the Lord Helm.”
“What words?” Loth guardedly asked.
“That you called him by another name,” he whispered, “And spoke of him as a king.”
Loth’s temples tightened.
“Who?” he asked, and looked away to avoid displaying an alarmed expression.
“Ober was under the stairs as you walked down it while you spoke.”
“And how is this known to you?”
“He spoke such words to me,” he answered, as again he looked this way and that way, “I laughed as if it was known to me of your teasing ways with the other and warned him not speak such words to others.”
Loth now showed him his face, when he gave him a grateful nod.
“What happens from this,” he said shrewdly, “Reason it no more. It is now out of your hands good or bad.”
Indicating he understood fully by a nod, Loth watched him walk away and again continued walking to speak with Laad, and although bothered about the man’s words, just before he reached him feigned a smile.
“What is wrong?” Laad asked the second he looked at him. His smile unable to hide what was within his eyes, which was worry.
Loth looked away. Annoyed for the first time since they bonded as brothers and friends, that he always knew when something bothered him.
“I will keep it from you,” he answered, not forthcoming, “That my deeds or death be off your head.”
“Loth.” Laad’s forehead wrinkled, “Do you really believe you can speak so strangely, and I not question you more?”
Loth opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.
“Speak!” Laad commanded, as his worry grew, “Speak it now!”
Loth lowered his head. “My tongue has teased you one time more that it should have.”
