by Luke, Monica
“As I touch your face Belon, what comes to me and always shall is,” Aderac’s earnest words, as he began to want him again, “That never has there been another so handsome.”
“All the time we have been as one?” Belon questioned pleased by his words, “Do you still see me as that?”
“Oh, my beloved,” he professed, as he raised his rear; then eased it down onto Belon’s shaft, which had hardened as he straddled him, “I see you as that and much more.”
Belon’s strength great, with Aderac on his lap, he pushed the table away from them and lifted him, and when he did Aderac enthusiastically wrapped his arms and legs around him, and encouragingly cheered him on.
“So strong you are, so strong,” Aderac’s rave, “Such a handsome strong man you are Belon and…”
“And what?” Belon basked in his words, and like a sponge absorbed deeply within every word Aderac ever spoke, “And what?”
“And I am weakened by you in every way and I love you. I love you.”
Knowing that was what he would say, Belon didn’t carry him to the bed. Instead, he carried him to the secret room, which they hadn’t used since they swore to never sleep apart.
“Let us go back in time.” He kissed and carried him, “And be upon the first bed we ever lay.”
“We shall set it on fire,” Aderac said enthused; his arms and legs still wrapped well around him, “With the heat of our bodies, as yours rubs to mine.”
“Then trust well Aderac,” Belon warned, as he fell on top of him after he placed him on the bed, “I will not move off you, until it burns.”
“Sssss set it on fire!” Aderac said loudly and passionately, as every inch of Belon suddenly rammed inside him, “Ah ssssss set it on fire!”
**
“What do you reason she wants?” Ovfren asked Ogorec as they walked down the hallway towards the servants, who worked in the men’s and different halls, chambers.
“I do not know,” his truthful answer, “We have never shared words so I gather it is dire.”
Now both standing outside her door, Ovfren looked at Ogorec.
“If you wish I will wait in the hallway.”
“There is no need,” he said quickly, “I have nothing to hide.”
Softly, Ogorec knocked on the hollow wood and then walked inside, but stayed close to the door.
“Moura,” Ogorec said warily, “You asked me to come to you.”
“Enter more please,” Moura spoke in raspy panting breaths.
Warily, Ogorec walked farther from the door, letting his eyes search the room with each step before he saw a weak frail body lying on her bed.
“You asked me to come,” he said concerned, “I am here.”
“Ogorec.” Moura wheezed, “I know we have not spoken, but I must reveal a truth and from it release my burden as well.”
“Why to me?”
“I am dying,” she confessed, “And when I am gone there is no one willing to care for him.”
“For who?”
“Our son -”
The room echoed with Ovfren’s gulp and his eyes spoke his question for him.
“I have never as much as touched her,” Ogorec instantly denied, as his head turned to Ovfren.
“My son,” Moura added, “With Belon.”
“Does he know?” Ogorec asked curiously since Belon never mentioned a son.
Moura breathed in and out in broken pants; then looked at Ogorec and Ovfren.
“I was angry when he refused me for him,” Moura admitted, knowing both new she meant King Aderac, “And was going to tell him when I went to him, but in my anger I did not to be spiteful.”
“And now?”
“I do not have much longer,” she confessed from her deathbed. The beads on her forehead an obvious sign she was burning fever, “Soon he will have no one.”
Ogorec looked at Ovfren, then to Moura.
“Belon is at Ivodgald,” Ogorec commented, “Do you wish us to care for your son until he comes again?”
“I beg you, Ogorec,” Moura said, as she tried to raise her fragile frame to face him while she made her plea, “Get him to Belon. Let him know he has a son. I know you have the means to do it and the honor to see he safely gets to him.”
“Moura…” Ogorec shook his head with hesitation, “Such a burden you are placing upon me.”
“I am dying,” her plea, “When I die, I beg that you get him to his father.”
Ogorec sighed deeper than he had ever before; then looked at Ovfren.
“My love,” Ogorec said to him, “What shall we do?”
“Agree and honor her dying words,” Ovfren answered, not even having to give it a second thought, “That no bad omen be upon us for not.”
With that said, Ogorec turned to Moura.
“It shall be done,” he promised.
Later in their chamber, as they discussed the matter Rulgesic came inside, and after listening to them for awhile stood.
“Brother,” he volunteered, “I long to see this Ivodgald where Belon now commands and lives. I will take the boy to him and be able to visit my old friend.”
“She tasked me with it,” Ogorec mentioned concerned.
“Your words were she asked you to get him to his father,” Rulgesic’s retort, “And I shall do just that, as well as keep him safe.”
“Ovfren,” Ogorec said as he looked at him, “Do you agree with such?”
Ovfren nodded; then looked at Rulgesic.
“Take him to Belon.” He nodded, “Who knows when he will journey back. He has been away a long time.”
“Then it is set,” all agreed, “When she passes, I shall take the boy to his father.”
Moura lived only days longer, and out of kindness, since she had no family or close friends, Ogorec had her buried in a grave of her own so the little boy could visit her should he be at WorrlgenHall ever again.
After the gravedigger lowered her body deep into the earth, they patiently let the boy stand by her grave to mourn her; then just as planned, he slept on a pallet within their cottage that night by the fire and the next morning, Rulgesic put him on a horse and pulled it behind his to take him to Belon.
**
His travel diligent and steady, Rulgesic got the young boy safely to Ivodgald quickly, and when he arrived in court, he stood with him in the far back patiently watching and listening to King Aderac.
While the king conducted his affairs with those who came before him, he pondered how he should approach his throne with the boy and Ogorec’s message.
As he stood and thought to himself, so deep were his thoughts it startled him when a guard suddenly stood in front of him and called him by name.
“Am I standing where I should not?” Rulgesic asked slightly alarmed unfamiliar with where visitors of court stood.
“Step forward and go in front of the king,” his brusque words, as he stood aside so he could get behind him as he walked.
Hesitantly, Rulgesic walked in front of the throne, and when he did, right away King Aderac silenced all.
“Step forward,” he said after he did.
After taking a few more steps, the child clinging to his leg frighteningly moving along behind him, Rulgesic bowed.
“Welcome,” Aderac greeted cheerfully, “I saw you when walked inside and knew your face. What has brought you this far north?”
Rulgesic raised his head; then tried to pry the child away from his leg, but Rulgesic’s pant tight in his grip; he quickly clung more tightly to him.
“Is he touched?”
“Only frightened King Aderac,” Rulgesic said, as he looked up.
His body and face covered by a small wool hooded cloak, although unable to see him completely, Aderac smiled pleasantly at him.
“And who is this frightened young child you have with you?” he asked curiously, knowing Rulgesic traveled a long time and probably with him.
“I beg you, king,” Rulgesic knew to be discreet, “That you grant me words with you
alone of matters with this child.”
Aderac’s brows furrowed with curiosity from his request.
“Now?”
“Yes, great king.”
Inhaling, Aderac looked at him, noticing the serious expression now resting on his face.
“Very well,” he said and stood, then walked towards his private chamber.
Unsure if given leave to follow, Rulgesic and the boy remained in place.
“Come along,” Aderac said, as he looked back, but kept walking.
Once in the chamber with his guards beside him, as Aderac sat and leaned back, humbly Rulgesic again spoke.
“I beg you, king,” he pushed his request to another limit by adding, “That my words to you be only for your ears.”
“Why do you ask such?” Aderac’s curiosity peaked even more.
“For the sake of Belon -”
Aderac straightened his back, anything to do with Belon his sole interest and concern.
“Belon,” he repeated, as his head perked before his mouth opened slightly and he now leaned forward, “What of Belon?”
“I beg you king,” Rulgesic only said.
After looking at his guards, Aderac waved his hands.
“Leave us,” he quickly commanded.
Once all had left, Aderac again leaned back.
“What of Belon?” he asked, as he rested his chin on his hand and looked at him intently.
“I am honoring a dying plea made to my brother,” Rulgesic answered, “I bring him what is his.”
Aderac gave him an odd look.
“Do not speak to me in riddles,” his terse remark in no mood for them.
“This child,” Rulgesic now revealed, as he looked down him, “Is Belon’s son.”
As a look of shock swept across him, Aderac was speechless; then once he regained his tongue, he stood and walked around his table and to the boy.
“Remove his cloak.”
Slowly, Rulgesic untied his cloak and pulled back the hood, and instantly Aderac gasped. The boy’s nose and lips mirroring Belon’s, he had long red hair resting proudly on his head and red eyebrows, and Aderac knew at once that he spoke the truth.
“…the mother?”
“She has died.”
“What is his name?”
“Ihon.”
Unsure what to say, Aderac said nothing for a while and stared at the boy, who was silent.
“Young one,” he finally said, while looking at him, “Can you speak?”
“Yes,” he timidly answered.
“How old are you?” he asked, as he now studied him from head to foot to figure it out himself.
As he only shook his head unsure of how old he was, thoughts rushed into Aderac’s head of what to do and how to handle the young boy, who was obviously afraid.
Are you hungry?” he asked, careful to keep his tone soft and soothing not to frighten him more.
The boy nodded.
Aderac gave him a sincere smile and walked to the door to call for the guard.
“Have a servant bring the young boy a hearty portion of roasted geese with figs and boiled apples, and two large cups of cold honeyed milk to wash it down,” he ordered, “And send another for Belon.”
While facing the door, Aderac took slow deep breaths not to seem frazzled, then turned to Rulgesic.
“You have journeyed far,” he said hospitable, “Rest as long as you like, and the guards will show you where the rooms are for guest. Enjoy your stay and you can have anything you ask for within reason by word of the king.”
“The fate of the boy -”
“You have done as asked,” Aderac’s remark, “He is out of your hands and now in the hands of Belon and me.”
Right away obedient to the king, Rulgesic nodded; then left his private chamber.
After he left, Aderac opened the door and spoke to Ciron. “Have council take over court. I am done for the day.”
Once the boy had eaten his fill, Aderac had servants round up toys for him to play with, and as he played with them at a table, he observantly watched him.
Again trying to see if anything about him was well different from Belon, he found nothing.
His eyes blue with the green flecks, his hair and brows red, and although just a young boy, already tall, he saw what Belon must have looked like as a child.
Not long after he sent for Belon, he casually walked inside.
“You send for me in the middle of the day,” he lovingly teased, “Am I missed or even better - wanted for naughty midday pleasure?”
Aderac bounced out of the chair meeting Belon halfway. “Rulgesic is here at Ivodgald.”
Belon happily grinned pleased to see his old friend again.
“Where?” he asked, but as he looked at Aderac, when he saw a questioning look on his face, knew something was wrong.
“There is more,” he said, not noticing the boy at the table, “Speak it.”
“Belon,” Aderac said quickly to get it out of the way, “He brought a gift for you when he came.”
“What?
“Your son.”
Belon gulped so loudly any passing could have heard it from hallway and his head bobbled surprised. The last words he ever reasoned someone would say to him, he questioned if he may have heard him right.
“What were just your words?” his disbelieving question, certain he had.
“Look,” Aderac said and pointed to the young boy, “He brought him all the way from WorrlgenHall.”
Belon looked over to the boy, then back to Aderac, then back to the boy again.
“I swear to you,” his vehement declaration, “I have been true to you and with no other in any way or have wanted to be.”
Aderac lovingly reached out and touched Belon’s face. He had no doubt of Belon’s faithfulness.
“I know that your love for me is great,” he said, as he did, “As I look at him, he looks to be about seven springs and we have been in love for six, and I know how much you love me.”
Slowly, Belon walked closer to the young boy with Aderac right behind him.
“…the mother?” He turned to Aderac.
“She is died.”
Thinking back on the only he had touched since Ogorec and he ended what was between them, suddenly it came to him. “Moura!”
“Who is that?”
“She was the only.”
“Then, my love,” Aderac said, as he took Belon’s hand, “She has sent you a great task.”
A look of shock swept across Belon’s face.
“I know nothing of being of father,” his reluctant words, as he stepped away to keep the child from hearing him.
“You know well such,” Aderac chided him still holding his hand; “You love and see after Beladera.”
“You know that is not the same Aderac.”
Belon inhaled; then looked over at the boy, before he walked right in front of him and stood.
“Stand,” he said when he did, but it sounded like a command as he towered over him and frightened him.
“Belon,” again Aderac chided, “He is not one of your men. He is just a little boy. Do not bark at him.”
Realizing Aderac was right, Belon got down on his knee in front of him, but so tall, he seem to still tower over him.
“Stand,” his tone more friendly, “And let me see you.”
Slowly, the boy stood; then Belon took his hand and lifted his chin.
“Look at his red hair and his red brows, my love,” Aderac anxiously said, as he did, “And his ears and nose. Oh, oh and his top lip, it curves just as yours does.”
“I see such,” Belon said, as he turned his chin to the left and right and deeply inhaled, “And I must confess, I see me as well.”
“Oooh, Belon,” Aderac said excitedly pleased, “I knew this was how you looked as a young boy.”
At once, Aderac called for a servant, promptly taking charge of the boy’s well being.
“Take him to one of the royal chambers on my floor,�
� he commanded, “I gather after such a full meal he is sleepy, but first bathe him and put him in the finest sleeping gown.”
Before the servant escorted Ihon away, Aderac turned to him and touched his cheek.
“Worry of nothing,” his warm words, “You are safe here with us.”
Smiling at him to comfort him as Aderac spoke, Belon rubbed his head before the servant lead him away; then once the child left the room, he sat hard in a chair unsure what to do or how to react to sudden fatherhood.
“What is within you?” Aderac asked, while soothingly rubbing the middle of his back knowing he was troubled.
“Worry,” Belon’s spoke truthfully.
Tenderly, Aderac moved his hand to Belon’s hair before he dug his fingers deep into his scalp, which always soothe him when he was troubled, then sat beside him.
“You know well what to do to soothe me,” Belon admitted pleased when he did.
“Let us go to our chamber,” Aderac suggested, as he stood, then grabbed Belon’s hand urging him to rise, “And as always we shall speak while we hold each other in bed of how to deal with a matter.”
Belon inhaled; then lead by Aderac’s hand, stood.
“Let us,” he agreed and followed him.
Once in their chamber, when they began to undress to climb into bed, as Belon put his sword away and took off his clothes, the faraway look in his eyes obvious, Aderac again tried to soothe his worry.
“Belon,” he said, while climbing in bed first, “I can see that you still worry, you know I am behind you.”
Now undressed, Belon climbed in bed; then got on his back for Aderac to rest his head on his chest as always before he put his arm around his shoulders.
“Yes, yet I fear,” he confessed, “It has been just us for so long, then Beladera, and now we have another who shall be part of our lives. This will change what is between us.”
Aderac raised his head to look at him.
“Belon,” his words soft, “He will only change it by adding to the greatness of our love?”
His hand caressing Aderac’s shoulder, then stroking his back, Belon looked at him.
“What if he does not want to be here and would rather be at WorrlgenHall?” Belon aired his concerns, “What if he despises me? What if …”
