The Book of the Blue House

[ChrisGibson]

Eight

The education
of
Derek annakar​

You could not possibly understand Connleth Aragareth unless you first understood Derek Annakar, for though, of their own wisdom they fostered a space between them that they might grow into their own fullness, and they loved many others, the two of them were ever two sides of the same thing.

- The Ency-clopedia of Westrial, 56th Edition, edited by Andi Lincoln


He never explained it Derek. He never told him, and he knew that Lorne would not either. It did not have to be told, would have been strange if it had. That morning, after Conn had come deep inside of Lorne, he lay arched like a dolphin, unable to move before slowly he collapsed onto his side in silence. It was Lorne who began to laugh, and then Conn was not sure if he himself laughed. But his body felt like laughter. He felt wrung out of something tight that had been in him for some time. He had felt more and more like a strung bow, and now the bow had launched.
They showered and went back to bed, and when Derek found them, the two were holding each other, warm and naked. Derek stripped himself and climbed into bed with them, and the jealousy he thought would be present melted like sugar in water.

By the end of January, war was declared and it was announced the armies would begin their march to the south. Prince Anson would be leading them along with Lord General Pembroke, and their allies in Sussail and Essail were coming under the banners of King Raoul’s son, Betham and King Stephen’s brother, General Rizhihard.

Derek Annakar knew the stories of the others in the Temple. He knew, for instance, that Matteo had been sold to men on the streets as a little boy and Cal had gone out to those same streets when he was little more than a child to escape his home. He knew that many had worked in the sex shows before they had come here, and that really, if one was to live this life, and be open to the desires of men, then that was possibly the best life to have come from.
And Derek knew about Gabriel and Lorne, both who had been raised in Blue Houses, a not uncommon phenomenon, though one that those who followe the New Faith shook their heads over, and that, though most who were raised in the Blue Houses did not become Blues, in some cases were often not allowed, to, Gabriel and Lorne had been. Gabriel, who had come to the Third Initiantion, was the son of a Kindly Sister whose brother had been a Blue, and not only that, their mother had been a Red Priestess and their grandfather a Blue. Unlike the Red Priest who lay with women, Blue Priests, of course, preferred men and yet, they could, if need required, though the need was rare and diverse, sire a child on a woman.
Derek was neither Blue born, nor a refugee from the streets, and Derek knew he could count on never seeing his family again. He had been, as his black hair, white skin, black eyes and red lips told, a Doman from a well off Doman family, and like good young men of such breeding, he had been sent to university.
But he was already unhappy even then, not understanding himself, curious about the world around him. His uncle, though Derek never spoke of it, was a bishop up north and many of the Annakers had suggested to young Derek that he might enter the White priesthood. To be a priest, to touch souls, to make a sacrament of your body, to become, even for a moment the link between men and God, danced before Derek’s eyes. He spent a long time in the university libraries and going from monastery to monastery, listening to the sermons of the Grey Brothers and Sisters, those who visited all houses to show that God was in All. He thought of the looks on their faces, of how solemn and happy they were. The word devotion came to mind, to be devoted not only to the work of being a priest, but to the God he served.
His second year of university he did not come home during the spring term. He remained in the city following the Grey Brothers and Sisters, gently quiet and observing, and one night, when the late winter storm was to be especially fierce and wet snow was hitting the ground, they arrived at the Blue Temple.
They did not come through the Black Door or the White, did not come as supplicants, but came through the Red Door in double file, filling the hall with their singing. They traveled down the small hall and then up the winding stair and into the great sanctuary until their voices rang off the walls, and the Blue Priests were there to welcome them. The old Abbot Hyrum was ruling then, and the Blues, bearing their candles, handed candles to the Greys. It seemed Brother Sian talked all night, but Derek did not mind. He did not remember weariness but love, and gladness, and this is what he wanted, but for some reason, he felt that, when the Greys left this place, he must remain. He did not remain, but he vowed to return.
When he came, Derek always entered through the Red Door. Old Hyrum was there to greet him, and Gabriel was in his first year. Gabriel took Derek under his wings, the red headed, pleasant young man saying, “You may be born for this, Derek. You may be like me, or like the priests of old.”
Gabriel wasn’t the only young man who was handsome enough, yes, but soft looking and monkish, bespectacled, devoted to leanring and to the services, and Derek, Doman that he was, had a devil of a time aligning this with what he knew of Blues.
“How could that be me?” Derek asked. “I… I think I would be afraid to simply lay with men.”
Gabriel, peering through his glasses and smiling bemusedly as if someone had thought out an interesting academic position said, “What would you be afraid of?”
“I…” Derek couldn’t answer it. He assumed that his fear was so rational, that someone rationally asking about it instead of accepting it surprised him.
It was when letters were coming for his parents, asking him if he ever planned to come home, and when he hadn’t been in his college rooms for weeks that he finally said, “I’ve never been with anyone. Never been with a woman even. Certainly not a man.”
Gabriel nodded.
“Through the Black Door is how you learn these things,” he said.
“That would be…” Derek began, and didn’t dare to go on. But then, he must. “A sin.”
Gabriel shook his head and smiled gently, touching Derek’s hand.
“Learning is not evil,” he said. “Discovery is not a sin.”

The first time Derek lay with Gabriel was not the first time he had lain with anyone. By then he had come through the Black Door a few times, and it was not long before he came through the Red Door to give himself as an Offering and then not long before he became a postulant and rose from postulant to novice. There was, once he knew sex, none of the nervous holding back. He wanted to know everything. He explored the Gorgon Rooms and took pleasure with every novice and every priest who was becoming a friend.
“The answer was myself,” Derek murmured.
“Yes!” Gabriel almost hissed in his rooms. As they lay lazy and rejoicing in their naked bodies, in the warmth of their skin and the comfort of his bed.
“I was afraid of myself, of my desires, of what I would find and who I would become, “Derek told him, lying on his stomach and pulling a pillow to himself.
“And now, every day I cannot wait to find out, to press myself to the very limit, to know everything about…”
Derek turned to him.
“Not me, not me exactly, but…”
“The Heart,” Gabriel said turning on his side to face Derek.
Derek marveled how all of Gabriel’s body was red and white, not simply his red hair, but the highlights of his body, his nipples, his lips, his sex and his crotum were pink and tinged with crimson. Derek did not halt to caress him, to draw to him.
“It is the White Priests who talk of the Heart as having nothing to do with the body and only being part of the soul. But the heart is in the body,” Gabriel said. “We need each other. We need this.”
He lay on his back now looking at the ceiling, “Every time I lie with a man I feel like I’m giving him everything in me, every thing he needs, even if only for that little moment, and I’m trying to learn every day to give everything and hold nothing back, to lose all masks.”
“And all fear.”
“And all fear.”
That was what Derek could not explain to Conn, but which Coon must have known without being taught. And, truly, Derek had not known it as well as he thought he did, for he had been filled with fear thinking of Con with anyone else until he saw his body pressed to Lorne’s until, in the dark, when all three of them had shared pleasure, Derek quit wondering where Conn was when they weren’t together, or why Conn seemed so flirtatious with Matteo, and remembered how Conn’s eyes always fell on him, how he and Conn always linked hands and ran off together, not just to make love, but to discuss the secrets of the day or stand on the roof together and watch the snow, to simply indulge in the pleasure of each other’s company. Jealousy dissolved. Fairness and love returned.

It was one night toward the end of January, after supper as they were preparing to leave that Abbot Hyrum touched Derek’s elbow and said, “Prepare yourself to come to the Blue Rooms this evening.”
This was a thing that never happened, and was never asked unless one had let it be known to the Abbot that he could ask it. And this was always because one person you’d bonded to over time was arriving and the Abbot wished to delight both his priests and the supplicant.
Derek nodded and kissed Connleth on the cheek, heading out of the hall before the others to gather what he needed for his bathing ritual so that he might present himself in the Blue Rooms promptly.
This night he bathed in the great bathroom beside the chapel which every Blue priest was washed in on the day of his initaiton. He knew that however important this man was and however special this night, every man who came to him was God in the Blue Rooms. But still.
Tonight he did not wear trousers and hirt or even the leotard that fit his thighs and cupped his buttocks like a second skin, but the blue hooded robe with the silver open hand hanging about his throat. He was surprised by how different the waiting rooms were in the night, filled with lamp light and, it seemed, filled with Blues he had never before seen. There were some first years. And then Jannelin came through the door and called Derek’s name.
Derek stood up and followed him down the hall where, occasionally, the muffled sounds of pleasure or frantic fucking could be heard on the other side of the doors, and Jannelin gestured to the last door at the end of the hall.
Derek opened it, and his face lit in surprise.
There, in plain brown pants and loose blue shirt, his great, heavy cloak spread out over a chair, bits of his dark bronze hair sticking up, sat a tall, strong and somewhat dragonish looking man who, though young, was leaving his first youth. His jaw was hard and his eyes dark green, and Derek thrilled at remembering his touch, his… what could only be called love.
“Anson!” he said to the Prince of Westiral.
“Derek, my friend!” Anson smiled from where he sat on the bed, holding out a hand to him. “Thank all the Gods it was you who they sent to me!”


MORE TOMORROW

 

[CharmedFan28]

Great to read about Derek's history! I am sort of glad Conn is keeping his explorations with others to himself but Derek still could find out so I don't know what is going to happen. This Anson character seems like he is going to be interesting. Excellent writing and I look forward to more tomorrow!

 

[ChrisGibson]

Well, as Derek says, discovery is not a sin. And yet, discovery is something Derek would probably not like. I think he may suspect Conn is exploring, but is simply not looking at it. It's all about making vows and doing something which works on paper, but seeing how it turns out in life. Anson is in now and all i will tell you is that Anson will be very important.

 

[ChrisGibson]

TONIGHT, DEREK LEARNS ABOUT HIMSELF, HIS FEELINGS FOR ANSON, THE APPROACHING WAR AND, MOST SURPRISINGLY, DEREK LEARNS A THING OR TWO ABOUT CONN


“We thought you were gone. We saw the grand processional.”
“We did leave,” Anson said. “I led out the armies. We got a far as Rutupiae. It was for show, and we’re holed up there tonight. I will be back by mid morning.”
“You snuck back into the city.”
“Indeed I did,” Anson said with a smile. “I snuck back in.
“I did not come alone,” he continued.
“Not the Lord Ekkrebeth?”
“Ekkre—oh, no. Not Ash. No. Ash is always somewhere far off these days. Another friend, and a good one. Robin Loxley, a highborn lord, but you’d never know it.”
“Much like you.”
“What’s that?’ Anson said.
“You are a highborn lord, highest there is, but one would never know it,” Derek said. “Only, I would,”
“Because you know me.”
“Because you have the bearing of a prince and you cannot hide it no matter how hard you try.”
The two men lay together, Derek’s arm over the prince’s, tracing his hip bone and his thigh.
“I do not try to hide it. The court has done that well enough for me, made me all but a bastard.”
“But you are not a bastard,” Derek said. “And everyone knows this. You are the right born son of Queen Essily and the King no matter what the bishops say, or how they made null the marriage. Even I know that, and I was yet unborn.”
“I will not argue it,” Anson said. “And I do not argue it.”
“I just think that Cedd and all of his allies would put so much upon you,” Derek said, “and you have been quick to let them. But I speak in haste of things I do not understand. However, my Prince, know that I speak them because I love you.”
Anson was about to respond when Derek said, “This Robin who has come with you? Is he in the Temple as well?”
“No, no.”
“Not a man of the Old Faith?”
“He is,” Anson said. “But he is of a different devotion.”
“The Red Temple, then? But we do not even have one in Kingsboro.”
“You certainly do not. And I don’t think you could now. Even here is too far north and too far east for a Red Temple. But no, Robin and his friend Will, who also came, they are of the Green Rite, and do their worship in the Grove tonight on Fair Isle as they say my mother used to do when she lived here. We will all meet in the morning.”
Derek had heard of the Green Priests and the Green Priesteses. He knew little of them, and this was not the time to ask more. One of their strongholds, so he had been told, was the Great Wood seven days north in the Old West Country, and it was said it was not safe for a King’s man or one of the New Faith to go wandering there, especially after dark.
But now his heart turned back to the present matter and he said, “Cal will be unhappy not to have seen you again. His face is always light, but not his eyes. He cannot hide is worry from me.”
“We will be at Rutupiae for a couple of days,” Anson said, “but I know the rules, and I cannot summon which Blue will come to me.”
“Still, we can choose,” Derek said. “If you would, Cal could come to you of his own free will.”
“I would,” Anson said. “I would say goodbye to him. Calm his fears. Hear his sweet voice again. Maybe have him call mine.”
Anson turned around and his hand traveled over Derek. “Perhaps even the two of you together, Like in old times.”
Derek smiled and was aroused and Anson saw it. His hand stroked him.
“As much as all of me would love that,” Derek said. “It is not fair that Cal should share you with me when he comes. You have a long history with him, and he deserves what we have, the night uninterrupted.”


“A penny for your thoughts?”
“Just a penny?” Derek jested, “not a Crown.”
“a whole sovereign if you wish,” Anson said.
Derek lay on his stomach, his elbows under him fiddling with the pillow, and beside his long white body, Anson stretched naked and strong like a bronze lion. The prince puffed on his cheroot and exhaled the sweet smoke.
“I worry for this war,” Derek said. “We all do. And we worry for you.”
Anson started to say something, maybe something false calming, and Derek, laying on his side now and feeling beautiful, feeling like a Blue priest, said, “Why is it that you lead troops, and your brother stays right here?”
“Cause Cedd is no soldier, and I am soldier trained.”
“Because you made yourself so.”
“Exactly, because I made myself so.”
“And now you fight the wars for—forgive me for saying this—a very old father and a prince who everyone knows despises you.”
This was the measure of how long Derek had known Anson, and he added, “And he despises not only you, my Prince, but everything you love, all the old ways. All of us.”
Anson sat up, grinding out his cheroot in the little glass tray. He touched Derek’s hand.
“Is that your fear?”
“Truthfully,” Derek shook his head and sat up, “when it comes to you, my Prince, who I have known so long, who was one of the first to come to me, whose body I have known better than my own, the truth is my fears of losing you and my fears for what will happen to us if the nation loses you are so entertwined it is no easy thing to say where one ends and the other begins. My heart is not right, and I am only too glad we could have this night together.”
“If you fear for me then put a charm on me,” Anson said seriously. “Though most forget, I remember the Blue priests have magic. All of you are embued with magic at your ordaining, a holdover from the original days. Ash has told me. And you forget, my mother was from the Rootless Isle.”
“Aye,” Derek nodded, “then you should remember your own magic, sir. As for any magic I have, I was not born to it. It does not flow through me. The only time I have ever felt it is on those few times when we all work it together. That is now the territory of the Blue Mages, and of the upper level Blue Priests, the Fourth Degrees. The magic I give you and all men is the magic of sex and comfort, love and acceptance. It is not battle magic or the sorcery of old.”
“There is one of your number who does possess it though, and possess it strongly,” Anson said.
“What?” Derek nearly frowned. Unthinking, he took Anson’s cheroot and puffed on it, blew sweet smoke from his nose.
“Not Gabriel? He is studying the Fourth Degree. Or Quinton? He is a southerner. They have the old Royan blood.”
Anson looked at him blankly, almost amused.
“I cannot guess it,” Derek said.
“Or will not guess it.”
“Or will not, then fine,” Derek said. “Since I am so thick, Prince of Westrial, enlighten me.”
“Your love. Who you have left behind to be with me. The young man, Conn.”
“Conn!” Derek said.
“Ash told me himself. Ash sent a letter. I have not seen him in some time. I… do not even know if we will ever be together again. But he wrote and told me that there was a boy from the north—which surprised me until I realized that Rheged borders the northern kingdoms, and he said the Old Blood was strong in the boy.”
“Well, yes, Conn is not pale. Conn is bronze, and bronze haired. He is… he and his sister definitely have Royan blood, but this doesn’t necessarily. But…”
“I have seen him,” Anson said. “A few times. He is different than many of you. Different, but the same.”
“Yes,” Derek said.
“His path is not your path, but it is along your path.”
“Does he know?” Derek almost whispered, staring blankly at the wall.
“I doubt it,” Anson said.
“Should I be the one to tell him. That seems strange, but even stranger that I should be the one to keep it from him.”
“Derek, that is something I cannot speak to.”
Derek frowned, now stuck with a burden and also knowing that if what Anson said was true, and it was, he would lose Conn, for he would have to go someplace else to be trained properly. He tried the sentence out, his voice sounding hollow in his ears.
“Connleth is a witch.”

MORE IN A COUPLE OF DAYS

 

[CharmedFan28]

Wow Conn is a witch! That was a surprise. I wonder how this is going to change things? I'll have to wait and see in a few days! Great writing!

 

[ChrisGibson]

I guess all I can say is.... we'll all see what happens in a few days. : )

 

[ChrisGibson]

As Derek has learned more on the nature of Conn, Conn must learn his own nature, as he goes from innocent boy, to a young man of many desires and finds himself moving from the place of black and white morals to hot temptations and moral complexities.



Nine


the nature of connnleth


Now I have said until you that soon the Age of Love will begin, and I proclaim to you that it is being born even now. But you must understand that now and for several centuries upon century since the Third Creation began, we have been in the Age of War. A new age is born like a mountain, or like anything, in blood and strife and violence, and so shall this be. Take courage and stand firm. The Age of Love dawns, but these calamanites are the birth pangs.

Ifandell Modet- The Blue Temple Sermon






In the middle of the night, Derek Annaker left the room to go into the sanctuary and gather a candle, oils and incense. He worked the few rites he remembered, for he was only a priest of the first grade, and returned to the room where Anson slept. In the night there was no talking, only the movements of love and desire, and when they had stopped for a while, Derek worked the old spell of protection over the prince, and they slept again.
The first think Derek did after departing from Anson was go to Cal. He did not hang around, lovesick, as he would like to, to make sure the prince was properly cloaked and clothed or wave him away from the Temple. And, at any road, Anson had left before dawn to meet with his friends who had gone to the Grove so that they could all ride back to Rutupiae before daylight.
Derek enter Cal’s room through the bathrooms. Cal was asleep in his large room, and asleep alone, or rather there was a wide space between him and Sara who stayed with him this night, and clearly nothing had taken palce between them. Cal blinked at him and yawned, and while Sara slept, Derek whispered everything Anson had said and told him to go to to the prince that night, and then, kissing Cal on the cheek, Derek went to the showers before returning to Conn.
In the showers he thought of those night when he and Cal had been together, in their training, sometimes riding twin boys or cousins long into the night, both of them sweating and straining, exalting in the strength of their bodies and the force of their need while boys screamed under them. They had both been with Anson several times together, and those nights were not full of frantic fucking. They were slow, and in the dark or in the deep golden light of brass lamps, the Prince seemed to teach them as much as they taught him, perhaps more even. Derek had often wondered if Anson had ever been concsecrated at a Blue House as a Blue priest, for such things were done. When he looked back on those nights and days he realized that part of what bound him to Cal was the nights they had both spent in bed with Anson, the Lion of Ondres who, young as he was, was still at least a decade older than them, the first man whose large hands had stoked true desire in them, taught them to pace their lust, and held their faces, looked into their eyes in the moments of climax, and told them there was no shame.
Often after a night with a man he was exhausted and ready for sleep, but now he was aroused again in the shower water, and touching himself. As if he knew, the curtain opened and Cal came in,
“Where is Sara?”
“Sara heard us whispering. She has gone to her brother’s.”
“Really?”
“Don’t feel too bad,” Cal smiled. “There’s a whole empty suite of rooms where Gabriel used to sleep.”
Cal fell to his knees and then, after moments in the shower, limbs tangled, the two of them fell into bed, and the love that had begun last evening, Derek continued early that morning until he and Cal fell asleep, exhausted in each other’s arms.

When the winter sun was finally rising, Derek supposed he should remove his hot body from Cal’s, but it felt so right, and he and Cal hadn’t been together for so long. It was an hour and two orgasms later before Derek finally departed from Cal who lay on his back in a daze, smiling fondly and almost stupidly as he departed. Derek came to the kitchen and tipped the jug of orange juice to his mouth, drinking and wiping the back of his hand over his lips.
Coming into Lorne’s room he saw, in the grey morning, Lorne’s large form asleep, but no Conn. Who he assumed to be Conn turned out to be pretty little Quinton. Well, now, there was something. Derek went down the little hall and saw in his bed, not Conn, but Jon splayed naked on top of Nialla. His cock rose and he thought of pressing himself inside the little man, giving him a rude surprise. That was one of those thoughts that would have to remain a thought though, and Derek scratched his head, for Conn was nowhere to be seen. But then, when you had spent not only a few obligatory hours, but the entire night with the Prince, and then made love through all the early morning with Cal, one could not very well complain about not knowing where his lover was.
Derek wondered, “Is he my lover?”
Anson had called him such, but was the Blue House meant for things as fragile as lovers? If Derek was not only serving in the sanctuary and the Rooms, but merrily plowing Cal and remembering the old time, thinking this very moment of fucking Jon, was he really fit to be Conn’s lover? And it turned out Conn was… that he possessed the Old Blood. Ekkrebeth had said so. Well, then, maybe he would be like Ekkrebeth. For Ekkrebeth was Anson’s true love and yet, he did not begrudge these other things Anson did. Did he? And then, Ekkrebeth was such a mystery, and Conn was a boy of seventeen.
But still a mystery. There is so little I understand about him, really. If I think about it.
Derek yawned. His mind was thick and cloudly and the night was catching up with him. He could not think about this now, Could not think straight. He would sleep now and speak to Conn when he awoke. Whenever that was.


Chapter eight


That night, Connleth had been sitting on a low stool rubbing Quinton’s leg hard the way he had done with animals in the barn back home when their limbs were sore.
“That’s it,” Quinton said, his eyes closed. “That’s it.”
Connleth did not need Quinton to explain that even when it hurt it felt good and he told Matteo, “Don’t worry, you can have your old job back soon.”
Quinton, whose eyes had been closed in pain opened them and smiled. How handsome he is, Conn though. He looked like a boy almost, but a boy with a beautiful face. He understood why men wanted to come to the little dark haired young man.
“I’m pretty sure Matt’s fine with you helping him a little. The poor thing. I’ve got him rubbing this bum leg all the time.”
There was a tight blue bandage around his knee and his upper calf and Quinton said, “Conn, may I ask you a question?’
“Yes.”
“Do you think you will become one of us one day?’
“I don’t know,” Conn said. “I hadn’t thought about it, not really.I’m happy as things are now.”
Quinton nodded and said nothing, but Gabriel was there and now Conn, as he massaged Quinton’s leg and Quinton closed his eyes, realized he was the only one in the room who was not a Blue, for even Matteo was now.
“You know where Derek is tonight,” Gabriel said.
“Yes,” said Conn. And then he looked from Quinton to Gabriel and said, “I feel like the two of you have something to say.”
“We do,” Quinton said, and he did that thing where, no matter how merry and boylike he seemed, when he sat up and his face turned a certain way he was suddenly lordly, with his brown locks hanging over his brow, his eyebrows straight on either side of his noble nose.
“It may not be the best thing to set your cap only on Derek is all,” Quinton said. “Matteo is training to be a Blue so we have an understanding. He is mine and I am his, but we belong to all the men that come to us, and we belong to the men we take pleasure with as well. We do not own each other.”
“It seems strange,” Gabriel said, “that Derek should be free to do as he would and you be simply waiting for him. It could turn out well, but such things usually do not. It is unequal.”
Conn turned red and said, “I am not totally without… other experience.”
“Yes, Lorne,” Quinton brushed aside what Connleth thought was a secret. “But that was once. Derek has other loves and so should you.”
“Quint!” Gabriel said.
“It was what we were leading up to,” Quinton said. “Why mince words? If what you have is what you want that’s fine,” he said to Conn, “but if you love others and have affection for them, there’s no point in you just waiting for Derek because he’s not waiting for you, and I don’t want to see someone like you make the mistake of thinking he is.”
Conn, still massaging Quinton’s leg,” could not believe he was hearing this, and he didn’t know how to respond except Quinton said, “Ouch! Ease up.’
“Oh!” Conn stirred. “I’m sorry. I just…”
“I made you uneasy,” Quinton apologized. “But I was serious. We all love you here, Conn.”
“I’m not…” Conn began. “I’m sorry, but I’m not as free as you think, and if you want me to… Are we all supposed to sleep together tonight?”
Quinton bursts out laughing and Gabriel began to giggle, but Conn notice Matteo just looking awkward.
“No,” Quinton said, gently. “Not all of us. Just Matt.”
Matt’s eyes bulged out and Conn realized his did too.
He looked to Gabriel, but the red haired man looked serious.
“You two are of an age.”
“But….” Conn looked at Quinton. “You love him.”
“Yes,” Quinton said. “Yes, I do. And because I do I will do what Derek was never big enough to do. I love Matteo. More than you know. He is worth being loved. But we are Blues, owning one exclusive man or being owned by one is not what we do, not while we are in our active years. You are a good man, Conn. I have much affection for you. You are so kind and I know that you love Matt and I know he loves you. You all are dear friends, so,” he took Conn’s hand and he took Matt’s hand and joined them together. “Go to the rooms we stay in, No one else will be there. Climb into bed with each other and let what happens happen.”
Conn’s cheeks were red, and when he darted his gaze toward the tall and gruff Matteo, he saw on the boy’s rough features that he was red and shy as well. He understood then that Quinton had seen something and known that Matteo would always be too shy to ask Conn, and Conn realized he would always be afraid to ask Matteo.
“Boys,” Gabriel stood up, “Stop looking at the floor and go spend some time together.”

“Have you been staring at me?” Matteo murmured, his voice a whisper and his eyes dreamy.
“Do you mind?” Conn asked.
“Ask me again.”
“Do you mind?”
“I can’t quite hear you. Come closer.”
Conn grinned and said, “Do you mind—?”
But Matteo had taken him by the back of his head and kissed his mouth.
“No,” Matteo said, grinning and pulling him back to his kiss him again. “No, I do not mind at all.”
He sighed and Conn lay on his side in the bed beside Matteo who said, “Do you know, I don’t mind if we never ever leave this bed?”
He grinned and laughed suddenly.
“I was so shy.”
Conn grinned and brushed back his light brown hair.
“You weren’t that shy for that long.”
“And sha’n’t be so shy again,” Matteo promised.
“I never realized,” Conn began, “how very much you look like Quinton.”
“I don’t look a damn like Quinton,” Matteo growled in his rough voice, “but I thank you for saying that, and it proves that you love me.”
“I do love you, Matteo, but you do resemble him. You the tall and he the short, but you have the same cheekbones, same nose. I want to thank him. For putting us together. I was too afraid to think of it, Matt.”
“As was I.”
“And grateful, so grateful that it happened.”
“You act as if it will never happen again.”
“You and Quinton have a life. He loves you. I cannot come to you every night.”
“No, some nights you will come to Derek. And anyway, time is made of more than nights. There are twenty four hours in each day, and Quinton is not as Derek.”
“How do you mean?”
“Do not pretend that Derek would, of his free will, tell you to stay with me for the night. Or even welcome me into bed with the two of you.”
“He did not mind Lorne.”
“But he did not welcome it either. Quinton would gladly invite you to bed with both of us. He is full of affection for you.”
“In this house I don’t know up from down or who is right and who is wrong.”
“It’s not a question of right and wrong,” Matteo said, smiling lightly. “It it a question of love, surely. But I think it is also a question of nature, and we are all here to find ours.”
Conn nodded, and Matteo’s long, large hand was in his hair.
“What is your nature, Conn?”
The depth returned to his voice.
“I feel for you the way I feel for my very best friend, for that is what you are,” Conn said, his eyes lowered as he spoke into Matteo’s ear, “and yet I feel for you something far stronger.”
“Stay with me again tonight?”
“Yes.”

MORE TOMORROW, AND MORE OF THE BEASTS TOO!

 

[CharmedFan28]

That was a great portion! Conn has a lot to think about and consider concerning his future. I am glad he has Matteo and Quinton to talk to. I am fascinated to read whatever happens next! Excellent writing!

 

[ChrisGibson]

Well, so much certainly is going on now, and Conn has found far more than friendship with Quinton and Matteo.

 

[ChrisGibson]

THE NATURE OF CONNLETH CONTINUED


Conn thought that whatever force brought so many people to Lorne’s room so that everyone forgot it was Lorne’s room was the same force that kept it almost a constant merss. His first few days in the temple, he had cleaned here constantly, but even in the first week he’d given up on that and decided to simply amend the damage as best he could, making the large room bearable more than clean.
Tonight no one could sleep, and they all sat around in the great room in various states of dress, Conn in the night robe and night tunic Nialla had gotten him for Wheelturn, and Derek in his blue hooded robe. They sat on the edge of the bed that Lorne had turned around in and, wrapping himself in a great quilt, gone to sleep. That bed was a jumple of blankets that seemed to never be made these days though the sheets were cleaned twice a week. Cal was, for once, in his blue robe, sitting beneath them with Gabriel and now, out of the kitchen, Quinton limped with a trouble that said his leg hurt more than usual tonight. Matt, sitting at the desk near the kitchen door, noticed and gestured for Quinton to join him. And Obala had come in and out, and perhaps was gone to bed.
Theo, Sara’s brother, had been with them for some time but had gone to bed as well. Jon and Nialla could be heard back in Derek’s room where the light was still on and they were talking, then coming in and out of the little conversations taking place here, and Brian and the other first years had fallen to dozing and no one said, “Why don’t you go to bed,” because they were all filled with anxiety thinking of the war. Down south in Clarville, there had been riots when Prince Cedd had spoken of drafting the commonfolk. A third of the city had gone up in flames. All hell had broken loose when the Essail troops had crossed the Westrial border and demanded quarter in the town of Gemond.
Cal’s eyes were strange tonight, and they had been strange for the last few nights and now he, who was lying on the floor, sat up and the light shone in the springs of his bronze curls.
“Friends, I’m leaving you,” he said.
No one said anything. They just looked at him, and at last it was Lorne, who turned over, not asleep at all, and said, “To go to bed?”
“To go to the army,” Cal said. “I’m going to Rutupiae. I will go to Prince Anson.”
The night after Derek had come back from lying with the prince, he had spoken to Cal quietly for a long time and the following afternoon, Cal had ridden out to Rutupiae and not come back for two days. That was some days sense, and Derek was sure that, as he had, Cal had said his goodbyes to Prince Anson.
“Cal,” Derek said softly, “That’s very serious. He’s going to war. And besides, you have duties here.”
“Which someone else can take up and even take up better.” Cal said. “I love the Prince. We all love the prince. We’d all go if we could.”
“I would not,” Lorne said. “And that’s a fact.”
“But I would and I will. Besides, do you not remember there was a time when Blues always went to battle and gave comfort and cheer to whoever needed it. That was our call, and still is our call.”
“Yes, and that was in places where all respected us so we were safe,” Derek said. “But the Daumans sare not like us. They do not have respect for the Old Faith, and if they catch you, you are a dead man.”
“Any man they catch is a dead man, Derek,” Cal said softly. “Brother, this is war and we have to do our part. I don’t know what your part is, just mine, and it is this.”
“Cal is right,” Gabriel said. He had been looking at the ground, thinking, this whole time. “And if he is going, then I am going too.”
“What?” Sara almost shouted. She had been looking at Cal while he talked, her face changing, but now this was too much.
“If the both of you leave then why am I here? Cal, you brought me to this temple. And Gabriel was my first friend, took us both into his rooms when we came. And now you would leave?”
“But Cal is right,” Gabriel said. “He is right and I feel that it is right for me to go as well.”
“Then it’s right for me to go too,” Sara stood up.
“No!” Cal’s voice was gentle, but his eyes were wide and serious.
“Because I am a woman?”
“Because you are my best friend. You became my friend when I was a punk on the streets, disrespected and used by all men, and it would be unfair to repay you by taking you to war.”
“Conn,” Cal turned to him, shocking him as he always did, “Look after her. I know you will.”
The whole time Matt’s often hard face went harder and harder and was drained of color so that it looked like old ivory.
“You were the first person I knew,” Matt said.
“Matt,” Cal said, “Matteo. You remember those first days you were here. You remember how we talked about the lives we had led. When I came to this temple, the first person to treat me with courtesy and grace, to look into my eye and see my wounds, not think of me as a series of slots to stick his cock in was Prince Anson. The first time I stood in his gaze I felt like I was someone, and I wasn’t even a priest yet, and so I must join him. You understand.”
Matt nodded, his face regaining color, but not joy, and Conn reached over and touched Matt’s long hand. He said to Cal, “I will look after him too.”


While Conn lay, trying to sleep, he heard a tiptoeing from Derek’s room, the room Derek never slept in. It was four in the morning, at least, that time where everyone was asleep, and then whatever Jon or Nialla or Sara might have been doing in that room, it was rare they would come into this.
But now Jon came, and he was naked and he saw Conn and stood before him. He cracked the curtain so that moonlight was on him and he turned around so that Conn could see all of him. He turned slowly, and looked at Conn, whose mouth was dry, whose temples and loins were throbbing. What was Jon playing at. Conn’s heart thumped with lust and frustration, a humiliation because back home, boys had done this to him as well, this teasing, and Jon had, in the last few weeks, done it whenever he could. The lust it inspired in Conn he quenched in bed with others, but now here Jon was, hot and white as moonlight in the dark.
Conn got up out of the bed, picking up his night trousers and covering his erection.
“What are you doing?” his whispered.
Jon smiled.
“Looking at the moonlight.”
“Why are you doing this?” Conn hissed.
Jon pulled the trousers from Conn and looked frankly at him. His eyes stared down at Conn like black pools.
“Follow me,” he said.
Conn did not move while John went down the hall and Conn realized he had gone into the little bathroom Derek had. He looked back to where Derek and Lorne were sleeping, and he had no intention of moving, but the throbbing in him needed to be relieved, the pumping of his heart, this confusion. He followed Jon and closed the bathroom door behind him. Jon went to his knees and began to suck Conn, taking his cock to the base of throat and Conn’s finger reached the light switch to turn off the harsh yellow and massage Jon’s scalp as thirstily, greedily, Jon sucked him.

MORE AFTER THE WEEKEND

 

[CharmedFan28]

Things are just getting interesting whether it be the war and what is going on in The Blue House! I look forward to reading more after the weekend and I hope you have a nice weekend!

 

[ChrisGibson]

Dear Matt, I didn't expect to hear from you tonight/today. Yes, things are getting VERY interesting in the Blue House, and outside of it, and interesting in this case means all sorts of things!

 

[ChrisGibson]

TONIGHT, HYRUM GIVES SOME ADVISE WORTH LISTENING TO

The last Hyrum of Hyrum House had died in his sleep at the age of forty-eight, the age that a Hyrum was supposed to retire, when he was still young and fit, but had years upon him. It was a great surprise, for he who had been named Leander before becoming Hyrum was fit and handsome and strong. Only the Gods knew why he had passed.
The natural order of things was for a Hyrum to retire and then for the new one to be voted upon. For three days he had a great ceremony and in one of those days the old Hyrum would come and make love to the new one, and then he would depart. None of this had happened for the current Hyrum. This time around things had been quite different.
If things had happened as they were supposed to, then the current Prior, Sebastian, would have probably become the new Hyrum. Still handsome, but in his middle years his passions slaked and replaced by wisdom, he would have been the natural choice and done all the things the head of the house was supposed to do. But when special circumstances occured, the abbot was chosen from on high than rather by a vote in the house, and when the old Hyrum could not pass love to the new one, or when the new one was far older than the last one, then the an Abbot was declared by the Great Council. The Blue Houses were in trouble, and this time around what was needed was far more than a handsome and charismatic head of house who could say that he had bedded every initiate==and this was the tradition. This time they needed a wise head to pull them out from their financial troubles and their run ins with the other orders and the royal court.
And so the Great Council had turned to Philemon, born in the land of Chyr and who had done his work as a Blue there for years before coming to the temple in Kingsboro. Everyone knew that in a house of free love where anyone might lay with anyone else there should be someone who wouldn’t, who could not, and aside from the financial skills Philemon had developed in the the temples in the west, with his working behind him and back there, and being past fifty, he was the perfect choice for Abbot.
Philemon, so used to being a father, or even a grandfather almost, was surprised in the few times he still did the old Blue work. Unlike a younger abbot or prior, he would never have brought himself down to the Blue Chambers. He had to be asked for. He felt foolish when he came ot the realization of still being a sexual person, not only being the wisdom and heart of the Blue House, but a Blue himself, splayed naked on the bed in the blue room while the boy who said he wanted to be with a mature man worked him with his mouth. Philemon had surprised himself when, in the end, he had gathered the boy into a ball, and spent the fury on him that he thought he was past. The Blue Rooms were always a lesson in humility and the end of illusion. The Blue Rooms always held the motto: Let sex be your teacher.
And so it was with a lightness of heart, feeling almost like a boy again, this current Abbot Hyrum came to the great tree lined roof with its two chasms, the smaller one near the south that shed light on the rooms of the sanctuary, the greater one toward the end of roof for the private courtyard. He saw Derek Annakar in a high collared black coat, his black hair blowing in the breeze, looking almost evil.
“You’re jealous,” he told him.
“What?”
“I have seen the look many times on the face of young Blues, and those not so young too. You’re jealous. You haven’t learned the lesson of the Blue House,”
Abbot Hyrum looked down into the courtyard where Conn played in the snow with Matteo.
“You choose to love so many, but you begrudge him do the same. Is that right?”
Derek bit his lip.
“That’s the thing,” Derek said, at last. “I don’t love many.”
“You love Cal.”
“It is not the same.”
“No. You love Anson.”
“He is gone. Master, Do not talk to me as if you did not understand the difference between the brotherly love most of us have for each other and… being in love,” Derek balled his white hands into fists.
“Finding your heart.”
“And you think Conn is your heart.”
“I know he is.”
“Conn is,” the Abbot said, “very understanding. And you are being very… not understanding.”
“He loves him,” Derek almost wept. “He loves Matteo, and I know. And I’m ashamed to be this hypocritical thing I am. But he was supposed to be my heart, and I was supposed to be his. And…”
“His heart is big enough for others.”
“I thought mine was too.”
“Derek, in this world, most people do not share their lovers. You have to decided what you want. If you are to remain a Blue you must learn the lesson of overcoming jealousy. If you want to not feel as you do, leave and make a life with Conn.”
“I cannot do that,” Derek said, looking at the Abbot a little shocked.
“I thought I couldn’t do it because I was called to this life, and now I can’t do it because that smile on his face, that love he has with Matt… I wouldn’t take it from him. As hard as it is to bear, I wouldn’t take anything from him that caused him joy. And… in my way, I love Matt too. It’s just… very hard.”
“Talk to him.”
Derek shook his head and jammed his hands into his pockets.
“I’m ashamed. Of these feelings. They make me feel petty.”
“Is that all?”
Derek surprised by the question, because it was not all.
“I am afraid,” Derek said, looking away, looking to the city below and then lifting his face to look across the river at the rose colored towers of the Kingsboro.
“I do not regret what I have become, but I can never be innocent again. And I love his innocence. Some men cannot stand what happens in the Gorgon Rooms or in the Blue Rooms or the Sanctuary. We aren’t like others. It’s hard, to keep your love, hard to remember why you’re here. There’s so much to face, in your heart and in the hearts of the men we meet, so much…” Derek shook his head, “that happens when your body and part of your heart becomes something any man have it. Even with the wardings, the spells, the rituals, the guards…”
Derek turned to Hyrum.
“Master, there are some things I’ve done, some things I’ve experienced, ways I’ve felt, confusions I’ve had that… I do not wish for him. I never want him to lose that light in his eyes.”
“And do you think you have?”
“Have what?”
“Lost the light in your eyes?”
“Sometimes,” Derek shook his head. “Sometimes I’m not sure who I am anymore, or what I am. Conn saw that light. He made me feel it again, and I am so, so very afraid for him. This was my path. I chose it, and I love it the way you love anything that belongs to you. But I would not have my actual brothers choose it, and it scares me to see Conn choosing such a life.”
“But in the end it is his choice,” Hyrum said. “If he should choose.”
“I know,” Derek sounded defeated as he nodded.
“Derek,” Hyrum reached out and lifted Derek’s chin. He touched the young man’s cheek with the back of his hand and Derek bit his lip and tried to not look at the ground.
“Talk to Conn,” Hyrum repeated. “Talk to your friend whom you love, and find the light in yours eyes again. Learn to be happy.”



MORE ON TOMORROW

 

[CharmedFan28]

It was good that Derek had Hyrum to talk to. I thought he might be jealous of Conn being with other people. Hopefully they can have a good chat about all of this. Great writing and I look forward to more tomorrow!

 

[ChrisGibson]

Well, Derek is very jealous, which is a thing he had not signed up for, but a consequence of that life. Can they keep going on the way they are? What's going to give? More to follow, but it is certainly helpful for Hyrum to be around and call Derek back to himself.

 

[ChrisGibson]

Nine

akkrebeth



You cannot bridge the space between what you expected, and what you find, and so you fill in the gap with foolishness.

Ifandell Modet, The Crystal Teaching



As the winter approached spring and the mysteries of Annatide gave way to the Pale Days and then to the beginning of the Season of Turning, all the city listened for news of the war, and the Blue Temple was no exception.
“Gabriel could explain this better if he was here,” Derek said, “but he is gone and I will do my best.”
Conn remembered when Gabriel and Cal had left. Cal had embraced them all, and kissed Conn on the cheek saying, “Now you look after all these fools. Right, chicken?” and winked at him.
When Gabriel had hugged him, Conn had a different feeling and Gabriel said, in a voice only for him, “Maybe when we come back, maybe you and I can know each other better. The way we should have?”
It was when Conn saw the question in the greenish blue eyes peering from behind their spectacles that he understood. Why hadn’t he known? But he had felt it before, that the shy and quiet redhead was above him. Only at that moment did he understand Gabriel’s feelings. If things had been different that first day he was at the temple. If he had gound himself in Gabriel’s rooms and not Derek’s, how would things have been?
“Yes,” Conn had said to Gabriel. “Yes, we will.”
But on this day, Derek began the explanation he said Gabriel would have been better doing.
“Over a thousand years ago when the Sinercian Empire collapsed, Ynkurando, which was the old Royan kingdom that had been part of it, began to collapse as well. They sent to Chyr for help, but Chyr and the other Royan kingdoms could only do so much, so in the end, the people of Ynkurando, and the people of Solahn too, called the Ayl to help defend them. In time they came as invaders, not satisfied with the land to the south that his now Sussail, and no longer wishing to be mercenariesa. The Ayl had originally come from the high north, in the land of Dayne, but in the time of the Sinercian empire thay had roved far into the south as mercenaries. When they came into the lands of the Royans they were tall and fierce, blond and ivory skinned with the blood of the Far South, and for centuries they fought or made alliance with the Royan to form the lands of Sussail, Senach, Essail and the largest of them and the heart of old Ynkurando, Westrial.
“Now five hundred years later had come the Hale, and the Hale were the same was the Ayl, except they had never left the Dayne homeland until now, and people were simply pronouncing the word differently. They settled in the north, and though there were wars between the north and south occasionally, for the most part, they found a peace. The high north was sparce Along with the Ayl and the Hale kingdoms were Elmet, Reghed, Ossarian, Solea, Alladae and Chyr, the ancient Royan lands strong and populated which had never let in us white men, and then, to the south were Solahn and Armor, the last vestiges of the old Empire.
“In time another group of raiders came out of Dayne, but they never had a foothold in any of the old Royan lands. They harassesd the coast of Sussail, Solahn and Armor, and though Sussail was technically a kingdom of the Ayl, it had many links to the Celtibern kingdoms. Sussail and Solahn agree that if the Dayne would settle in the marchlands between them and bring order to that disputed territory, then that would be their possession, and so they came to live there. But these pirates were called, in time, the Lords of the Domain, or Domans, and their territory became Daumany.
“When Gillem the Second of Westrial died leaving, as some reckoned, no heir, it was time for Edric of Daumany to claim what he felt was his rightful throne, and so the Domans came up the mouth of the River Chyr and marched through the Wedding Country into Ondres by the Sea and took it as their capital. For five years they fought the lords of Westrial to make the throne theirs, but they never took the Kingsboro or dared enter the Greenwood. Lords were removed from their lands and stripped of their titles. White Priests were thrown out of their monasteries and minsters to be exchanged for the Grey Orders of Daumany. The Ancient Orders were put to flight. The Archbishop of Kingsboro, who actually was the Abbot of Purplekirk at that time, opened the city to all ture Westrelmen, and had the backing of the throne of Chyr. King Edric appointed his brother as the new Archbishop of Westrial and the hearts of the people were heavy. In fact, this was during the time of the First Robin Hood, and any Domans who entered the wood land did so at their peril. For five generatiosn the Domans ruled, and for two they ruled absolutely before the people came under the leadership of Prince Anthal the First, and he was crowned at Kingsboro by the Abbot and Archbishop.
“The war which began in the fens continued for five bloody years, and ended with the expulsion of the Doman lords when they were not executed, and their heads put on pikes. But the Domans had poor knights, some lords had fourth sons and fourth sons who had fourth sons. A lot of people were poor and used to living with the rest of the people or Westrial, and so we remained, swearing loyalty to the king. Wealthy people gave up their lands, and so that’s how my ancestors, and Cal’s and Gabriel’s came to live here. There was a time when Domans hid their heritage and the privilege they had known, pretending to be Sendics, Ayl. But we are paler, whiter usually, and have darker hair. Black as opposed to brown, red rather than ginger. Rarely blond. We had kept separate from the other people, and when our star was fallen, then no would intermarry with us so our features remained. In the passage of time, as the Ayl were distinguished from the Hale, so the Domans who returned to the south or never left it, were called Daumans.”
It was these Daumans, who were now at war in the south with Westrial.
Despite what everyone said, Prince Cedd had gone to war, but though he might be heir to the throne, his younger brother along with Anthony Pembroke and Frederick Meriwether were accounted the greatest generals. They had led the the armies to the Zahem Pass which was entry way into Westrial, and sent the eastern forces into Sussail, having gained permission to enter from King Raoul.
“Queen Ermengild of Chyr protects the river and will burn any ship that tried to enter the bay,” Derek said. “Daumany had Zahem as an ally, but they cannot really match us. I only wonder why they would try, and then, even if they can not take all of us, they can take some of us.”
Conn supposed that Derek meant Anson. When he heard about the war stratagies he could not help but space out and grow sleepy, but it was the history and the links between the different countries and royal families that always fascinated him.
“Bellamy still wishes for Westrial. He wants to expand and, I think, wants to give his dukes a unified focus so they do not oppose him. But he would need the permission of Sussail to do this. Raoul may have even given it, but the Queen of Sussail is Hermudis. She is cousin to Bellamy, and also a cousin to the King of the Two Hales.
“William. Yes. And the Duke of Daumany is his cousin too, and his possible his heir.”
“But that means he could attack Westrial on several sides.”
“No. Hermudis is a Daughter of the Rootless Isle, and allied to the lady Nemerly, and she, like Nimerly is a descendant of Ifandell Modet, the great prophetess. What is more, they are both kin to Akkrebeth and to Ermengild of Chyr, so Hermudis ensures that Sussail can never ally with Daumany. What is more, Hermusis is the daughter of the King of Armor, Armor and Solahn are long allies to the Royan kingdoms and to us.”
“But there is still the Two Hales,” Conn said, and Derek raised an eyebrow in surprise, for he had not been sure that Conn was listening,
“Yes, that is so. But King William, to maintain power, married into the great House of Baldwin. His wife is Edith and she and her father and brothers are always plotting to take power from him. They care nothing about the Daumans. So William’s allegiances have to be with Essail, the only one of the Ayl kingdoms which would treat with him.”
“And Anson’s sister is the Queen of Essail,”
“Yes,” Derek said. “I have never known her, only seen her. But she does not seem like the type of person who wold have much allegiance to Westrial or Anthal. However, her husband is honorable, and she would play her part.”
“And,” Conn thought, “since King Anthal has no grandchildren but through her…”
“Yes,” Derek said, “at the moment Westrial could very well be the inheritance of Morgellyn’s children.. You do have a knack for this.”
“It’s all about relationships,” Conn said. “It’s all a great story, really.”
They were sitting in the great solar on the first floor of the Temple, where the patio doors looked out onto the great couryard and now they heard feet padding behind them, and presently turned to see, entering, the Abbot Hyrum.
“I’ll tell you another story,” he said, “It is the story where Conn must come to the sanctuary in five minutes.”
“What?” Conn began.
“Which,” Abbot Hyrum continued without explanation, “means you should probably start walking now.”

MORE TUESDAY

 

[CharmedFan28]

That was a well done portion! Some great storytelling and everything else! I wonder if Abbot Hyrum will talk to Conn about Derek or something else? I will have to wait and see! Great writing and I look forward to more in a few days!

 

[ChrisGibson]

Yes, you will have to wait and see. I thought about saying more, but I better not. I will tell you this, there are only two chapters after this, and where it is going, I'm pretty sure you won't be able to see!

 

[ChrisGibson]

CHAPTER NINE CONCLUDED


They were sitting in the great solar on the first floor of the Temple, where the patio doors looked out onto the great couryard and now they heard feet padding behind them, and presently turned to see, entering, the Abbot Hyrum.
“I’ll tell you another story,” he said, “It is the story where Conn must come to the sanctuary in five minutes.”
“What?” Conn began.
“Which,” Abbot Hyrum continued without explanation, “means you should probably start walking now.”

Connleth followed the Abbot and realized it was a good thing he did, for still after all these months, the Temple was a mystery to him. Derek had explained that the oldest Blue temples were all great buttes of blue stone, and the precincts which would have been in any ancient temple, including the courtyards, were all wound up like intestines inside the block structure. So he walked along the ground level cloister looking through the windows and pillars on the courtyard until he passed through the low ceilinged and pillared rooms where the young priests met for classes and discussions and visiting teachers and speakers came and he saw the hall that lead to the lobby where he had first entered from the White Door, with the cafeteria in the distance, and a northern corridor leading to the locked doors over the sections through which one entered by the Black Door. Now they both walked up the low flight of stairs, and Connleth found himself in a red carpeted hall leading to a doorway which opened to the sanctuary.
Though the great Red Door was open, the sanctuary was nearly empty at this time of day. Lamps burned along the walls before the images of the Gods and against the colorful murals, and the light of the sunroof above shone down on the stone floor. On that floor, sitting, his legs folded under him and his hands on his lap, head shaved, was Akkrabeth.
“He is waiting for you.” the Abbot said, and Conn looked at him, but the Abbot nodded and pushed him through the doorway.
Connleth descended the shallow door into the large flagstone sanctuary, and bowed before the great image of Adaon before walking slowly to the man who sat on the floor.
“Sit beside my Connleth son of Maire,” Ekkrebeth said.
Connleth obeyed, saying nothing.
“Do you know who I am?”
“You are the Pendarvis. The Lord Akkrabeth.”
“Amongst other things, yes. And do you know what you are?”
“I know who I am,” Connleth offered.
“Do you even know that?” The man smiled more to himself than at Conn. He was surprisingly young looking, and kind.
“I wonder.”
“I am…” Connleth began.
“Come with me,” Ekkrebeth said. “There is little time and I needed to speak with you.”
Connleth did not know why the wizard of Westrial would ever need to speak to him, but he obeyed and followed him to the great bowl of fire which burned before the lap of Adaon.
“Look into the fire,” Akkrebeth said. “And tell me what you see.”
“Lord Akkrabeth,” Connleth said. “I don’t know what you’ve been told, but I’m not a wizard.”
“Exactly,” Ekkrebeth said. “You do not know what I have been told. Look into the fire.
“And call me Ash,” he added. “It’s simpler.”
Connleth looked to the fire and he gazed on the flames that danced like something between air and water, yellow and red, centered with black, lifting and falling, running along the bowl, sustained by sweet wood and incense.
“Tell me,” Ekkrebeth said.
“I see fire. I see fire dancing,” Connleth almost shrugged, then thought it disrespectful. “I feel waves of flames. Flame like waves. No. Waves. Waves. And on the waves a ship. And the ship sails are black. There are three others ships. They are… in a storm. Over them is a great bird, like a heron. Only much bigger. Bigger than a house. It’s shadow is black. There is a man. He is dark, He like a Royan, Like the darkest Royan, strong, and there is a circlet of gold in his hair. His hair is like black wool. No. Yes. And he carries a sword. Why does that matter? He is carrying the sword and…. It is gone. It’s gone. There’s a tower. High. It’s too high. No one ever saw something this high, but just like that… it’s crumbling to the ground. It’s crashing and—oh, no, the people. The people! And the dust. And there is dust again and fire again and the fire, the fire….”
Conn said back, his face hot, his body covered in sweat. He seemed rung out. He was breathing heavily, the way he did after… but it seem like sacrilege to bring that up.
“It is not sacrilege,” Ekkre—Ash said. “The two are both forms of power and come from the same source, the same Lord.”
“But…” Connleth said, ignoring how Ash had known his thoughts, “what was that?”
“A test,” Ash said, smoothing the black robe over his chest. It hung lose exposing his breast, and now he gathered it closer.
“And it was also magic,” he hadded offhandedly.
“Your magic?”
“Don’t be stupid,” Ash said with neglible bad temper. “I thought you possessed the mark of the mage. You do. In the old days you would have had no choice but to come with me, but now you do have a choice.”
“Sir…” Connleth began, “Are you saying you would take me with you, to make me a… wizard? Or a witch. Or… mage.”
“One’s witch is another man’s mage,” Ash said. “And if you keep repeating what I say and asking me stupid questions I will grow tired of you. If there is nothing keeping you here, then come with me.”
He thought of Derek. He thought of his friends in this house. Matteo. He thought of his sister.
“I promised someone, two someones who left recently, that I would look after some people, and I feel like I am not doing it if I leave,” Connleth said.
Ash looked at him closely.
“Do you feel,” Ash began, “that your path lies with the Blues?”
“If it was here,” Connleth said, “then I couldn’t be a mage.”
“Why not? Several men who stayed here for a far shorter time than you already have were given the Blue and then left this house to go on as lords and princes, chamberlains, soldiers and yes, mages. If you took the Blue, I would come back for you. I must leave in the morning, and would have taken you with me. But if you would stay behind, I will return to you in one year’s time.”
Connleth felt like a great coward. In all the adventure stories, presented with such a chance, a great wizard standing before you, one would never have looked back, and yet, he could not see his way to doing this at all. He could leave his sister, and in some ways he could even leave Derek, but the thought of leaving Matteo, whom he had vowed to watch over, was unbearable, and to leave him for something that, just as easily could be done in the following year, was unthinkable.
“My lord,” Connleth said, “please. Please come for me when the leaves bud on the trees, in the next spring, when hopefully these wars have ended.”
“Connleth son of Maire,” Ash said, pulling his hood over his head and already turning from him, “Look for me in one year’s time, and on that day, be ready.”



When Ash had left him to remain a year in the Temple, it was only a few days before Conn decided that he would enter the Blue Order. It seemed almost like a lark, he was so light hearted about. He knew it was was exactly the thing he should do. And he had been waiting on this moment to know it. And it was not that he wanted to spend his time lying with all sorts of men. That was available to him now. He wanted to enter into the mystery that his friends were in, that, no matter how close he was to it, he was only on the outside. He and Derek had talked long into the last few nights about jealousy and heartache about the strange feelings that arrived, that neither of them knew how to handle, and Conn thought that he wanted what Derek had in those moments of peace. He wanted what the Abbot possessed. He wanted to devote himself to the Blue God who, after all was the God he would be devoted to anyway, when Ekkrebeth came for him.
The first surprise he had was that the moment he made his intentions known he was quiet, shy, and embarrassed about the whole matter. He thought he would simply state it to Matteo and Derek, and to those of his friends left in the Temple, but when he said it, he felt strangely bashful. Derek enfolded him and held onto him, hugging him hard and Conn said, “I thought you didn’t want me to.”
“That was the scared me talking,” Derek said. “But it’s right. You should be one of us. It’s right.” he added, “I love you, Conn.”
The second surprise Conn had was when, that same day, after lunch, he was given the light blue robe of the novices.
“It was actually sent from the Abbot,” Quinton said, draping it over Conn’s arms.
The Blues did not believe in wasting time on formalities. By the time Conn had chosen to be a novice, he had lived in the House longer than most postulants, and he had, to record, lain with four Blue priests. Derek knew of Matteo, and Conn felt no need to elaborate on the others, no matter how understanding Derek had become.
And then began the long hours of education and service in the Temple that Conn had known about, but never really seen. Again, the Abbot not believing in undo ceremony or undo stress, assigned Conn to be Derek’s atrendant as Matteo atrended Quinton. Derek ahd already taught him so much, but now Derek began to teach him the prayers, the rites, the long liturgies, the services of the chapel, the gesturies during the service. One afternoon, Derek and Quinton, Matteo and Conn went down a long corridor on the fifth floor and entered into the great library which took three balconied stories of the Temple and was surrounded by an arcade. In this house of books, Quinton and Derek began to educate the boys on all the history of the Order and on the sacred books, the chants and poems a priest should know. The work was harder than Conn expected, but he had never known how thirsty he was for scholarship, who much he loved jumping into the books, the lectures, the arguments.
“The work is harder because we’re training you harder,” Quinton said, simply,
Looking at Matt and Conn and sharing a glance with Derek, who nodded he said:
“You know there are different grades of priests. Some of them, and I don’t fault them, are nothing more than prostitutes,” which seemd like a faulting to Conn.
“They only exist to have sex. Some are trained and then leave the temple to go back to their lives. Some are trained in arts of love, but do little actual service in the Temple. Some of us are primarily scholars and some are mystics. We are training you to the second grade so you can rise to the third grade sooner.”
Well, yes, that was right. Brian certainly spent most of his days on his back, and though Quinton and Derek both enjoyed lovemaking and attended the Blue Rooms, they, like Gabriel, were certainly grave men who did far more than attend to the pleasures of others. Always, Conn had been on the outside of that, but now he began to understand. It was not that he did not find sex pleasant in his training, he did, but now he came to understand that as a Blue Priest, sex was not about him. Derek had always said this, but it was a thing he had to experience. These men he was with, these experiences, were to pleasure others, not him, and in a way, though the supplicants were physically with him, they did not touch him, did not know him. All were kind and gracious, some even wept on occasion, but these men were not his lovers. He gave them love, truly, he gave them everything. But could love sometimes only be for the moment? And yes there was lust and even an eagerness to go to his work. Conn felt an eagerness to go to the Gorgon Rooms and learn all that went on there.
“They’re safe, Conn,” Derek said in his soft voice, when he took Conn to the Gorgon, “but it doesn’t sit well with me, you being left alone here.”
The first time Conn came from those places where men did whatever they desired with whomever, where there were no faces, only hands and lips, only places to enter and be entered, Conn was silent. He said, “I don’t know how I feel about myself after doing that.”
“Yes,” Derek said. “That’s how it can be.”
“But I don’t feel like I can ever judge anybody else again.”
“I think that’s the purpose of it,” Derek said. “Most people hold their heads up, justify what they do, judge other people, put a picture of themselves into their heads, a self that they like, or can live with. The whole time you want to hold this picture up of yourself and judge other people, you’re full of lust. You’re always burning up with all these secret fantasies, wishing to be tied up, or fuck someone who ties you up. You’re filled with a desire for all the embarrassing things: simulated rape, or pleasure because of being disgraced or… just pleasure. All of this crazy lust dominates the world. Here, everything you lusted for you can do, and when it’s done you’re left… hollow. You’re left to figure out what is real, what you really want now that you’ve indulged your pleasures for what you thought you wanted.
“But when I came here, when I started to do the things I lusted for, or was afraid of, I didn’t know how to think of myself. And then I thought… maybe the point of being a priest is you’re not suppoed to think of yourself. So I was freed from that. And then, after you’ve been in… well, an orgy in the dark and done things with men you don’t know and you don’t know how many of you there were, it’s hard to hold your head up and judge people for the very human things they do, the very real desires. You sort of sink down to the ground, so you can’t hold your head above others. You’re not above anything anymore. It frees you. And then you remember the old saying. God himself is as low as the earth.”


It was as the Prior said, “Most men never do what they want, They just spend their days full of thwarted lust. Thinking about sex. Thinking about affection, thinking about pleasure and desire that will never come. You come here, as a boy, indulge everything, confront everything. Some of us do it for a little while, some of us do it for years, some of us never stop. But the monster which has been made into a moanster is just a thing. There are White priests full of lust because they are celibates and can never have a man or a woman. But here, if the desire arises in you, you can turn to your brother, or you can go to the Gorgon Rooms, and the desire is healthy and a part of you, but also as passing as the need for food. It doesn’t consume you, and you know in that desire you are saying, ‘I am not above the earth. Look, I am a man, and a man lusts, a man spills seed, a man fucks, a man needs the touch of another man, or of a woman. This is what we are, these creatures of need. I am not ashamed of my need. See, here I spill my seed. Look, you can do the same. I am here for you, I am not holding myself away from you. Look. We have done this, given ourselves ot each other. Now, here we are resting and laughing in each others arms. Now that we have fucked and fucked, let us do all the other little things together, let us pray together. Let us praise the God who made us and made pleasure and made us this way to love it.’”
And so in the mornings, Conn in his pale robes was in the sanctuary beside Matteo and Derek and Quinton, their legs folded beneath them as the incense was burned. They folded their hands together and chanted before the Lord Adaon.


Just as a storm cannot prevail against a rocky mountain,
so Mara can never overpower the man who lives
meditating on impurities,
who is controlled in his senses,
and filled with faith and holy effort.

Whoever living hypocrisy, devoid of self-control
and truthfulness, should don the blue robe,
he surely is not worthy of the robe.
But whoever is emptied of hypocrisy,
well-established in virtues and filled with self-control
and truthfulness, he indeed is worthy of the blue robe.

Thus they spoke in the morning, and in the evening they chanted in the ancient tongue

Jasarī ām̐dhībēharī caṭṭānakō
pahāḍamā jitna sakdaina,
tyasailē mārālē bām̐cnē mānisalā'ī
kahilē pani śakti prāpta garna sakdaina
aśud'dhiyōṁ mā dhyāna,
jō āphnō indriyamā niyantrita cha,
ra viśvāsa ra pavitra prayāsalē
bhari'ēkō.

And so Conn learned.


MORE THURSDAY

 

[CharmedFan28]

That was a great and very detailed portion! So much going on and I am glad to be taken along on Conn and Matteo's journey of joining the Blue. I am happy they are deciding on their futures. Excellent writing and I look forward to more in a few days!