WORRLGENHALL (98 page)

 
    From his doting, Aderac lovingly looked at Belon.

 
    “I am fine, honey,” he openly said, and from his words of affection to Belon, King Gegorad looked surprised.

 
    “Is he his personal guard?” he asked Baric, while Belon helped Aderac sit.

 
    “No,” Baric simply answered, “He is the commander of the whole Kingdom of Ivodgald.

 
    “Indeed,” he commented surprised, since he was helping Aderac along as if a servant.

 
    When Aderac sat, Belon sat beside him, and when King Gegorad noticed how closely he did, kept looking over at them.

 
    “The king and his commander seem close,” King Gegorad commented to Baric, now even more curious.

 
    “In truth…” Baric said frankly , getting it out of the way certain more questions would follow if not, “They are more and have been for some time, and I shall leave it at that.”

 
    King Gegorad nodded, knowing the frank remark meant it was best to leave the subject alone, and asked nothing else.

 
    “Now!” Baric voiced loudly so all could hear him, as he stood and held up his cup, “Let us rejoice in the coming of age of Oen, my only son, who regretfully had to get to bed, and heir to all of Worrlgen.”

 
    As all drank, and danced to the music, Aderac looked at Belon.

 
    “We have never danced together.” He realized.

 
    “I am not one for such,” Belon confessed, “And would look foolish.”

 
    Aderac laughed and held his side.

 
    “When back at Ivodgald, and we are alone,” he whispered to him playfully in his ear, “I will teach you.”

 
    “You cannot teach a turtle to dance about,” Belon teased.

 
    “You shall gracefully dance,” Aderac said, and touched Belon’s thigh, “Before I am done.”

 
    “As long as it is with us alone in our chamber,” Belon agreed and laughed, “That only you can see me look so foolish.”

 
    “Shall I bring to mind the time you ran out of the lake to chase me? How you tripped and when you stood, dirt covered your whole face and body. That made you look foolish?”

 
    Both burst into laughter, and once done they turned and watched the other’s dance, then after watching for a while, Belon touched Aderac’s hand; then stood.

 
    “I must speak with someone,” he said, as he did, “Will you be fine here until I return?”

 
    “Yes, Belon.”

 
    Once standing, Belon leaned over and quickly gave Aderac small kiss, but before he moved his head away, Aderac touched his face lovingly.

 
    “Do not be to long,” he whispered, “Or I shall miss you.”

 
    “I will not.”

 
    When Lord Cadon saw Belon kiss Aderac, he instantly whispered over to his brother.

 
    “Did you see such?” he questioned surprised.

 
    “I did.”

 
    “His way is just as mine,” Lord Cadon became hopeful, “When he learns that I share his ways, I shall befriend him and win his favor. Celgon will bond with Ivodgald.”

 
    “Careful brother,” Elgen cautioned, along with a reminding warning, “He is King Baric’s cousin, and the one who kissed him is the man who cut open Vron’s stomach. He can be brutal if riled to anger.”

 
    “Worry not of that.” Lord Cadon eyes lit. The thought of the abundance of Ivodgald’s vast horses at his disposal, along with its gold and ore mines backing Celgon made him salivate.

 
    Across the hall, the champions from Hemrock also saw the kiss Belon gave to Aderac and became disgusted; then when Belon walked pass them, they acted as if they were speaking to each other, but loud enough so he could hear them.

 
    “Could this be what Worrlgen is made of?” one asked the other, “Soft men who lay upon soft men.”

 
    “Surely not, but it seems all I see,” the other added, “I shall hope that the true men are out being men and not among us.”

 
    Belon stopped and looked at them both, then turned and saw Aderac watching him, and held his temper.

 
    “I am no longer from Worrlgen,” he simply said, “But soon enough you will find out what one not from Worrlgen is made of as you beg on your knees.”

**

     Out practicing again for the morning, Ovfren avoided going to the king’s great hall by feigning he was ill; then once Ogorec left, he hurried out to search for Enek.

 
    After he walked into the courtyard, when he saw him he waited patiently to not disturb him; then when he stopped to rest, came over to him.

 
    “Well graceful you are with a sword.” Ovfren commented impressed, and stood close, “I long to know how graceful you are with your other sword.”

 
    Enek breathed in hard, as he looked at Ovfren, who just as most had when they looked at him, now that he saw him in another way saw the appeal of his attractive youthful face.

 
    As Ovfren boldly moved closer and kissed him, he weakened briefly and didn’t stop him at first.

 
    “Let us go somewhere to be alone,” Ovfren suggested.

 
    Again, Enek inhaled; then strengthened his will.

 
    “We cannot,” he bluntly answered.

 
    “Why?”

 
    “I have had a night to reason,” Enek’s again blunt words, but the words panged him from knowing he was intentionally being cruel, as well as lying, “And such a way is not for me.”

 
    “You are lying.” Ovfren knew, “And I know you are by how you returned my kiss just now. You want me.”

 
    “Want or not, I shall remain true to what I spoke,” Enek said frankly, “And to speak more of it is useless. I will hear nothing else from you, so be gone,” he added, then turned his back to him and began practicing again.

 
    Ovfren stood flabbergasted by the sudden change in him, but didn’t know what to say sway him.

 
    His pride wounded, he quickly turned and walked away, but as he walked down the corridor, he got more blunt words from another when Belon stepped out of the shadows in front of him.

 
    “Have you gone mad?” Belon chided, “What is wrong with you?”

 
    “What do you mean?”

 
    Angry with him for his foolishness, Belon grabbed him by his hair and pulled it hard to make him listen to him.

 
    “Ogorec loves you,” he scolded, “And here you are offering to bend your knees between the thighs of one you do not even know.”

 
    Insulted, Ovfren tried to strike him, but Belon moved his head out of his way and slapped the top of his head hard with the palm of his hand.

 
    “You severed Ogorec from me,” Belon continued his scolding, “And for a long time I wanted to strangle you with my bare hands…yet I know fate was fate, and that another was truly meant for me, and grateful I now am to you.”

 
    “I do love him,” Ovfren professed, “And shall always.”

 
    “I believe you do.” Belon knew, “Yet, I knew one day your mind would wonder.”

 
    Ovfren was silent, as guilt rushed though him, but so did jealously.

 
    “I know about you and him, and the kiss,” Ovfren finally blurted.

 
    “He spoke it to you?”

 
    “He did.”

 
    “Then all this was done to punish him?”

 
    “Yes,” Ovfren again blurted, “No,” he corrected himself, as he shook his head, “I do not know.”

 
    “I know his kiss to me wounded you,” Belon, trying to be as sympathetic as possible considering their past, said, “But if you truly forgave him, forget the kiss, if you cannot let him go.”

 
    “I forgave him, but I was angry still.” Ovfren realized, “And was well on my way to doing foolish a deed.”

 
    “Yes, you were,” Belon’s criticized, “And if such notions come to you again, I warn you.

 
    Belon caught himself, realizing he was becoming emotional.

 
    “End it or be faithful, and if not…”

 
    “And if not what?”

 
    Knowing he was being slightly haughty because he was scolding him, Belon grabbed Ovfren’s head and banged it into the stones of the wall just hard enough to make him know he meant his words.

 
    “Oww!” he cried out, and frowned, as he grabbed his head.

 
    “The next time it will be harder,” he warned and walked away.

**

     Well into the night, all drank and enjoyed themselves, but Belon concerned about Aderac, refrained because he wanted to be able to help him back to their chamber without stumbling himself.

 
    As Belon mingled and waited until Aderac tired from his seemingly endless chatting, occasionally glancing over at him with a smile. To pass the time, he pleasantly talked with the guilds and with his men, but still disgusted by the sight of their earlier kiss, the two from Hemrock again tried to taunt him.

 
    “Do you wonder?” one asked, when Belon walked by, “If the King of Ivodgald has his way with sheep, as well as men?”

 
    “I shall reason the king is a sheep lover, as well as a man lover,” the other snidely replied, “Yet, I shall gather more with sheep than men for the reason he is so ugly.”

 
    Belon’s pleasant mood turned to instant anger from the insult to Aderac, and Aderac who just happened to look over to him at that moment, noticed his menacing scowl from all the way across the hall.

 
    “Cousin,” Aderac observantly said, and kept his stare on Belon, “Belon is troubled and I believe the men from Hemrock who are next to him have caused it.”

 
    Baric looked across the hall and saw Belon standing.

 
    “How do you know?” he questioned, “He is all the way across the hall. I hear and see nothing wrong.”

 
    “I know all that has to do with Belon and moods.” Aderac asserted, “And I can see on his face that he is very angry.”

 
    Only seconds after Aderac spoke, Belon put his hand on the hilt of his sword.

 
    “You two will die this night!” Belon swore.

 
    “Dare I be cursed,” one spewed, “Should I dishonorably die by the hands of a man lover and not a true warrior?”

 
    When Aderac saw Belon rest his hand his sword’s hilt, he sprang to his feet.

 
    “Belon,” he called out from across the hall, “I am tired and want to go back to the chamber.”

 
    “Go to your sheep lover king,” the other taunted, and just as he half opened his mouth to laugh, he felt his body tilted and suddenly moving.

 
    Unable to finish his laugh, Belon suddenly seized him by his jaw and forcibly drove his body backwards. His boots dragging the floor leaving a scuffed trail until it ended with his back crashing into the wooden wall.

 
    Stuck to the wall as if a tapestry; his jaw still securely in Belon’s angry grip. He desperately he tried to break free, oblivious that Belon had withdrawn his knife and was about to bury the blade deep into his stomach, and seconds from killing him, those from WorrlgenHall grabbed Belon’s arm and pulled him off him.

 
    Instantly, the man reached for his jaw fearing Belon dislocated it with his strong hold and forceful drive, then he glared hatefully at him before lunging towards him, but those from Hemrock grabbed him and held him back.

 
    When he saw it, Aderac, holding his side rushed away from the table to the end of the hall with Baric, Ogorec, Laad, and others right behind them.

 
    “What is going on?” Baric questioned first.

 
    “We were only jesting as men do, great king,” one from Hemrock offered.

 
    Aderac walked to Belon and stood right in front of him.

 
    “Speak,” he firmly said. Looking right into his eyes, as if he could read his thoughts, and Belon knew he’d know if he lied.