Date: Wed, 4 Oct 2000 14:15:04 +0800
From: Jason <zs12@hotmail.com>
Subject: Growing-up-in-the-thirteenth-century-1

Please tell me what you think of this story! E-mail to zs12@hotmail.com

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.