Date: Thu, 05 Jul 2007 08:15:07 +0200 From: A.K. <andrej@andrejkoymasky.com> Subject: Malgre tout 12/13 (Historical) ---------------------------- MALGRE TOUT by Andrej Koymasky (C) 2007 written on October 18, 1993 translated by the author English text kindly revised by John ----------------------------- USUAL DISCLAIMER "MALGRE TOUT" is a gay story, with some parts containing graphic scenes of sex between males. So, if in your land, religion, family, opinion and so on this is not good for you, it will be better not to read this story. But if you really want, or because YOU don't care, or because you think you really want to read it, please be my welcomed guest. ----------------------------- CHAPTER 12 -- The officer's gold The following morning, Junot went to wake them up. He found them clothed but half embraced. "Did you feel cold, boys?" he asked, without malice. "Yes, a little..." Jacques lied. "Bring your things. We are going to the inn to fetch the Parisian and then we leave." "Yes, alright. Does the Parisian know we're coming as well?" "No, but he will not raise any fuss. Being three you could help each other. There is a lot of snow and the journey will be difficult. Here, take these sticks, you will need them. Let's go." They followed Junot and waited outside the inn. After a while he came out with the Parisian. "So there, these will be your journey companions." He said to the Parisian pointing at the two young men. The Parisian was a man on his forty, with thick mustaches and a hard, frowning expression. He was stout but nimble and strong. He made a dry salutation gesture to the two boys. Then he asked to Junot, "Where will you accompany us to, Junot?" "Just beyond the frontier. I will show you the road to Philippeville and then I'll come back." "How many hours on the journey?" "From here to where I will leave you, about four. From there to Philippeville, following the road, about five." The man was carrying on his shoulders a big sack of rough cloth. Junot gave him a stick too. They set off. Junot also had a sack on his shoulders, but less big and compact than that of the Parisian. They walked in silence for about an hour on the road going back to Virieux. They went past the Mayers' farm, from which a plume of smoke was already rising. The sun, still low and pale, made the endless snowy moor shine faintly. Then Junot left the road and proceeded up the slope of a mountain. "Follow me in a line and pass exactly where I walk. Here the way becomes more difficult and dangerous." "Are you sure we'll not come up against Belgian soldiers or gendarmes? And that we will not meet French or Prussian soldiers?" the Parisian asked. "Sure as sure one can be in this period. But even if we should meet them, let talk me with them." The Parisian seemed irritated, "I mustn't meet any of them; I already told you..." "I really think we will not, passing from here. But if you want to be absolutely certain, one hundred per cent, you have just to go back..." "Alright. Let's try." The man answered in a sharp tone. Junot led the way. Kurt followed him, then Jacques, then the Parisian who wanted to be last. They climbed uphill on the deep, untouched snow, leaving behind them a long trail, thin but clear-cut like a scar. Junot, once in a while, stopped to carefully look around and at times he decidedly made a detour, so that now the trail they were leaving behind them was like a disorderly zigzag. They passed under tall trees covered with snow which on the ground was less deep. Every now and then, Junot turned to look back to check that everybody was following him and didn't drop behind. They walked for a long time, in a perfect silence. They stopped. "Why are we stopping, now?" The Parisian asked, frowning. "When you walk on snow it's advisable to stop often but for just a short time. To eat a little, to drink some wine, then to start again. If you walk for too long, you have to stop longer and your muscles will get cold and you will not be able to go on. Remember this well, when you'll be by yourselves. Stopping often, for a short time, little food, little wine. This is the golden rule." He said putting down the sack from his shoulders, taking out some food and a wine flask. The other three followed suit. "How much further for the frontier?" the Parisian asked. "We'll be more or less on the frontier at our next stop. And then we'll be half way along the stretch I will do with you." Junot answered, hoisting his sack on his shoulders again. When the others were also ready, he started off again, followed by the three, in the same order as before. A sudden noise made them stop. "What's that?" Jacques asked, worried. "Just a deer." Junot laughed and they resumed their march. He stopped, "So here, the border passes more or less in this point. We are entering Belgium." "Then we are safe." Jacques said. "No, we have to go for a good while a long way from here before being safe. Let's go." "Don't we make a stop here?" Jacques asked. "No, a little further on. There are rocks, Let's go." The four resumed the march. As Junot had announced, they arrived at a kind of cleft with rock walls, opening on the ground. Junot went inside it and followed its course walking on the snow-clad bottom, very cautiously sounding the snow before him with his stick. When they reached a kind of bifurcation he went to the right. Then a little farther, he stopped. "Second stop." He announced. All four let down their loads from their shoulders and again ate some food and drank a draught of wine. "Why are you making us walk down here?" The Parisian asked. "Because if there was a gendarmes patrol, up there they would at once detect our trail on the snow slope and could follow it and find us..." Junot answered. "Do you often do this journey?" Jacques asked. "Often enough to recognize it at any season." Junot soberly answered, resuming the trek. They emerged from the canyon into another thin forest. Here the guide turned towards the north with a confident gait. He had clear reference marks that only he knew -- a certain tree, a certain rock. During their third stop Kurt withdrew to urinate. The Parisian said to Jacques, "He is not a French, your silent friend, is he?" Jacques looked at him, slightly astounded, and said, "No, he is from the Luxembourg grand duchy..." "Ah. Prussian invaded also Luxembourg... But it's weird he didn't flee to Belgium directly from the great duchy..." "He was guest of relatives, here in this area..." Kurt came back and the Parisian kept quiet. They set off again. When they stopped for the fourth halt, the sun was already high on the sky. "So here. Do you see that ledge up there? Over it is the road for Philippeville. Don't try to climb it directly, it's too hard and dangerous so go up at an angle, from here in that direction. You have to pass under that big rock, then up there, over by that big bush, do you see it? Then when you reach the road, just follow it in that direction and you will get to Philippeville. Once there, ask of Etienne Marles and tell him Junot sent you. He will see about finding you transport to Brussels." Junot said addressing to the Parisian. Then he added, "About you two, boys, good luck. Around Philippeville there are several good farms and as soon as spring comes you'll have no difficulties finding a job. For now just go at the Three Kings tavern. The innkeeper is a friend of mine. Farewell then." They looked at the man making his way back. Then the Parisian said, "Well, danger is over. Now you go your way and I mine. There is no more reason to go on together." "But anyway we are all going to Philippeville, aren't we?" Jacques objected, slightly surprised. "You go your way and I go mine." The Parisian repeated brusquely and set off in the direction Junot showed them. Jacques looked at Kurt, they shrugged their shoulders and followed the trail left by the man who preceded them. He was going up passing under the big rock and over by the bushes as their guide had shown them. But he was walking fast, as if he wanted to leave them behind. "A funny number..." Jacques said to Kurt. "Yes. Much funny." "He seems to be a soldier." "Yes, so think I too. A chief soldier, no?" "Yes, an officer. I bet he deserted too, like us..." Jacques giggled. The Parisian was already far away and he had almost reached the ledge over which the road was to be found. The two friends stopped for a short halt as their guide had explained to them. "He not did halt." Kurt remarked while they were chewing their morsel of food. "No. So much the worse for him. It seems he is in a hurry..." "There is still much way. If he not do halt, he idiot." "Let's worry about us, my love. Nobody's running after us." The man disappeared over the ledge. The two friends quietly resumed their way, following the track that the Parisian had left on the snow. When they too were on the ledge, they saw the deep prints going towards the road then following it. The road was barely distinguishable on that expanse of untouched snow. It could be guessed there had to be, only because the snow was unwinding in a long almost flat ribbon of almost regular width. On the left the road ran along the top of the steep slope they had just climbed up the diagonal, and to the right there were broad undulations of the ground with sparse trees here and there, some in groups, some in rows. Far away, on the left side of the road, they saw the man going on at a fast walk. "Wouldn't it be better to walk in the center of the road?" Jacques asked Kurt. "Yes, but if we walk on his stepped snow, we do less effort." His friend answered. "Yes, you're right. But why does he walk so close to the edge?" "Perhaps he want see also under if man or soldier come?" Kurt ventured. "It could be. But it's weird." "Not important for us! We go and make our way." They resumed their walk and made two more stops. The sky was darkening and a light snow started to fall. "You love snow?" Kurt asked. "Yes, but... not so much. When I was a child we played with the snow. We threw snowballs at each other..." "And never made man of snow?" "Yes, sure!" "I also..." Kurt said turning to look at him and smiling. Here and there, both under them down the valley and at the right up the slope, every now and then they saw farms from which plumes of smoke were rising. But Junot advised them to first go to Philippeville and not to try touring the farms blindly, as long as there was snow. He told them to see the innkeeper who knew everybody and to seek his advice. The snowfall was starting to cover the tracks of the Parisian's passage, but they were still visible enough. At a certain point the tracks suddenly disappeared. Jacques stopped trying to understand where they could continue. "That's odd, it seems he stopped here, he trampled the snow around and... he disappeared! I don't understand... it's impossible..." Jacques said, perplexed, examining the ground. Kurt also looked then pointed at a nearby low bush, "Look, steps near bush!" "Yes... but why?" "He perhaps needed to shit?" "But what, is he still there?" "He perhaps is ill?" "It could be. What do you think, we go to check?" "Yes, better." They went to the bush. The footprints crossed it and ceased again. Kurt noticed some small broken branches on the ground, without snow on them. "He passed here." "Yes, and then? Behind there is a precipice..." "He fall down perhaps?" Kurt said and leaned out a little, "I see nothing." "Careful, it's dangerous. You'll risk falling down too..." "You hold strong my stick and I look better..." Kurt said. He tried again to lean out, keeping himself at the end of the stick that Jacques was holding on the other end, balancing it with his weight. "I see his sack! Yes... down there..." "You see him?" "No, not him..." "He could be here under..." Kurt went back in the bush, "Look, there road turns little. Perhaps from there possible see." They went back on the road and followed it for about twenty meters. From the edge they looked at the cliff under the point were there the bush was. The Parisian's body, all awry like a discarded rag doll, was on a rock and a little lower there was his sack. "Yes, he is fall." Kurt said. "He could possibly still be alive. We should try to help him..." Jacques said. "From where we can go down?" Kurt asked. They explored the road. A little more beyond they saw that the ground was sloping down less steeply and that along the slope there were several bushes. They decided to try to go down at that point and, in a zigzag, they managed to reach the bottom without falling. Then, very carefully walking at level, they approached the site of the accident. When they got near the man, they saw that his hair was soaked in blood that was also staining the rock and the snow. Kurt approached him, trying to see if he was still alive. "No is breath from his mouth..." "He possibly slipped down and smashed his head..." "But why slipped down?" "He could have possibly put his sack to near to the edge... look, he has his trousers open. You see? He probably wanted to relieve himself and his sack slipped down and he tried to stop it and lost his balance..." "Died for a sack! Much idiot..." "Poor man..." "Ha, we not can do things for him..." "Let's go... let go back..." "He now no more use of food. We better take his food, no?" Kurt hesitantly proposed. "I don't know... possibly yes..." Jacques thoughtfully nodded. Kurt moved to reach the sack of the dead man and lifted it, "Hey, small but much heavy. Here not only food!" he exclaimed going near Jacques with the sack and giving it to his friend. Jacques took and opened it. There was a small bundle with food and under it, put flat, a smaller box-shape rucksack. "This is an army rucksack like the one I had! Can it possibly contain weapons?" Jacques said, made curious, extracting it. He opened it and saw that it was full of paper rolls well lined up. He carefully opened one of them... it was a roll of gold coins! "Kurt, look here! Not a weapon at all! It's full of gold coins!" he said showing him the half open roll. "All gold coins? Full?" "I really think so..." "Look..." Kurt murmured. Jacques opened a second roll, a third one... "Yes, all god coins! A lot of gold coins! Look, each roll has ten of them..." "Bad if we... if we take this gold?" "No, he's dead, now. He was fleeing to Belgium with all this gold. It was possibly the army gold..." "He had perhaps to give gold to other person?" "I don't know. And we will never know. But if we take it... they can think we killed him to steal his gold." "Who?" "I don't know..." "Here no one see. We can take, I think. We not thieves. But if we leave all here, snow covers, and then good days, and farmers come and found and take gold, no?" "Yes, you are right. Listen, let's take only the rolls and put them on the bottom of our panniers. And let's take the food. We will leave here his sack with the army rucksack and all the rest." "There is other thing in his sack?" "No... wait... yes, this." He took our a cloth envelope. Inside there was a silver frame with a miniature, a small portrait representing an officer, with a woman and three children elegantly dressed. "This is him..." Jacques said showing the portrait to Kurt. "Yes, with his family. We not take it, right?" "No, I'll put it back on the envelope and then on his chest. He was probably going to meet them, who knows..." He leaned the envelope with the portrait on the man's chest, then they took all the coins rolls and put them on the bottom of their panniers, under their clothes. Then with the empty rucksack and the sack, covered the man's face. "In a while the snow will cover everything. Let's go." Jacques said. "Wait. I first say prayer for him..." Kurt murmured. They cautiously climbed up the cliff again, following the footprints they had made while going down. When they were again on the road, they resumed their journey in silence, walking well to the center of the road. Now the snow was falling more heavily than before. When they stopped under a big tree on the right side of the road, Jacques said, "Possibly his family was waiting for him somewhere. For the gold." "Junot said that the man in Philippesville had to make him go to Brussels, no? Perhaps there is his family, no?" "What was the name of Philippesville man?" "I don't know, Etienne and then something." Kurt said. "Listen, if we can find his family, we should give then the gold, right?" "Yes, I think so." "Yes, I too think so. Listen, now we go to Philippesville. If we find that Etienne man... he could possibly know something." "We will see. Now better we not use that gold. We will see." "Yes, I think you're right, Kurt." They resumed their journey and in the evening they reached Philippesville. They looked for the Three Kings Inn. The innkeeper was a short and stocky man, with a bristly beard and crafty, lively eyes, "Junot told us to come here..." Jacques said to the innkeeper. The man brightened in a wide smile, "Ah, the good old Junot! How is he?" "He's fine. Well, we would like to find a job here and he said to ask your advice, as you know everybody." "Oh, I see. What are you able to do, boys?" "We're farmers. We are able to work the fields, to care for cattle. We are also able to weave baskets, to milk, and to make butter and cheese..." "Yes. Next spring I could surely show you a couple of farms that could need your work. But meanwhile..." "We have these few coins and some food with us... can they be enough until spring comes?" Jacques asked the man showing him the coins that master Mayer had given them. "Mmhh... they are few. But you seem to be two strong boys, and you are Junot's friends... Until spring you can give me a hand... and possibly also the baker who is one of my good friends. If he cares for your food, I can give you a place to sleep, a warm place... Well, for tonight anyway you can stay here at my place. Shelter should never be refused to anybody. You will sleep here inside when I close, near the fireplace. You will not be really comfortable, but at least you will not be out in the cold." "How much we pay?" Kurt asked. "Nothing, for this night. It's on me. Then tomorrow we will se if Didier, the baker, needs one of you." Staying in the warm, they ate the meal offered by the innkeeper and drank some of his wine. When at night the innkeeper closed the premises, they helped him to clean and tidy the room. Then the man gave them a sack of hay as a pallet. "You'll not have much room with the two on it, but at least you will be warm. See you tomorrow morning, boys. I'm going to shut you inside, don't take it badly." The man said and went away. They heard him closing up with a bolt and a padlock. Kurt then moved the haysack before the fireplace still full of embers, then opened his pannier and took out the little wooden box with the butter. With a sly smile, he said to his friend, "Come, we have all the night for us and good warm. We can be naked!" Jacques smiled, drew near him and took the little box from his hands and put it on a stool near the pannier, then started to undress him. "This time I will not come soon, my love. I promise you..." he whispered while he was undressing him. Naked, standing one in front of the other, they admired each other, barely illuminated by the red glow of the embers. They lightly brushed each other's bodies, they kissed, and leaned tightly one against the other, enjoying their hard-ons. Kurt knelt before his man and started to suck with gusto, caressing his belly, buttocks, his thighs, happy to feel his quivers from his attentions. "I want to take you, Kurt... Stand up and turn. I'll take you like this, standing..." "Yes, love, as you want..."the boy answered, excited. Before standing up he took the little box and carefully lubed the erect and palpitating pole of his lover, then handled him the little box and stood up. "Now you prepare me..." he said, turned and offered his sweet little ass to him. He felt his friend's fingers probing and lubing him, pushing a finger inside and turning. Then Jacques put the box away, went behind Kurt and aimed between his buttocks with his member. He penetrated him with a set of small strokes, at first driving his throbbing pole with his hand. Then he embraced Kurt's waist from behind and slipped inside him with a long and vigorous pressure made simply by tilting his pelvis forwards and pulling his lover's pelvis onto him. "Oh... yes..." Kurt moaned with pleasure, bending a little and putting his hands on his knees to keep his balance. When he was totally inside him, Jacques bent over him, passed his arms up over his chest and seized his shoulders, to keep him tightly pressed to him. Then he started to move his pelvis back and forth with a set of vigorous jerks. Kurt was darting about at each stroke and was quietly moaning, seized by increasing pleasure. "<So... so...>" All Jacques senses were prey to a frenzy. He felt that this time he would be able to control himself and that he could enjoy that delightful ride with his lover for a long time. But he was wrong, because after a few strokes he was no more able to restrain himself and flung himself into a strong and disordered rhythm that soon culminated in very strong orgasm that left him panting and trembling. They slowly stood up and Kurt gently slipped away. He turned and they were in the other's arms, passionately kissing. Then Kurt drew Jacques towards the nearby table, gently pushing on his chest, still lightly panting, and made him lie on it, on his back, his leg dangling over the edge. Jacques didn't know what his lover had in mind, but let him continue. Kurt made him spread his legs and moved between them. Kurt then made him lift his legs and pressed them against his chest. He took some butter and after carefully lubing his turgid member, he prepared his friend's hole. Jacques at this point understood and waited, anxiously. And finally he felt impaled. In that position he could see his boy's face, and he liked that very much. He saw emotions flit back and forth on that beautiful face -- desire, love, passion, tenderness, strength, sweetness, virility, devotion, and pride... and he felt enchanted. While Kurt was dancing inside him, caressing his belly, teasing his nipples, caressing his face and also his genitals, hard again, Jacques started to whisper sweet and passionate words to him, until his beloved came inside him. "How beautiful you are, Kurt! You are wonderful! You are my boy, my male. How I do love feeling you in me... so strong, so sweet... You are mine, Kurt, only mine!" Finally satisfied, they dressed again, laid on the haysack, and curled one against the other. In silence, enjoying the mutual closeness, they relaxed, sated and happy until, without being aware, they slipped in a deep and undisturbed sleep. The embers were covered with ashes, slowly burning out and their red glow dimmed, making the two young lovers tightly embraced with each other almost invisible. The noise of the padlock the following morning, woke them up. While they were getting up waiting for the innkeeper, Jacques whispered to his companion, "Good morning my sweet love!" ----------------------------- CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 13 ----------------------------- In my home page I've put some more of my stories. If someone wants to read them, the URL is http://andrejkoymasky.com If you want to send me feed-back, or desire to help revising my English translations, so that I can put on-line more of my stories in English please e-mail at andrej@andrejkoymasky.com ---------------------------