by Jon McDonald
Again it is late at night. And though I fear I may suffer from lack of sleep tomorrow, I am once again drawn to continue my narration. Tonight it is almost warm, and I have my casement open to the night breeze.
I have not heard my wolf tonight. Perhaps he has found some peace. I hope it is not because he has encountered a farmer’s trap and is no longer with us. I should miss his friendship greatly, as I do believe he knows of me as I know of him.
I shall now continue my story.
The taking on of Sevaric as my assistant proved to be a wise decision. He learned quickly and became an adept companion both at the warehouse and on the outside as well, as he was an expert hunter and would accompany me on my painful expeditions to find game for both his table and mine. Not that I ever grew to enjoy this sport, but I did look forward to our adventures together, where we would talk of music and books, and the differences in our lives, while we scouted for game in the hills of our estate. Though, because I was his master, I always had to take the lead in our conversations - much to my sadness, as I always enjoyed hearing his unbridled and spontaneous thoughts when they would break through with his unguarded enthusiasm.
I am reminded of one occasion in particular. We had just come up empty-handed after a brace of quail escaped our capture, and our traps were coming up empty. The day was hot, as it was now mid-June. We sought the comfort of shade and the cooling influence of a small natural pond secluded deep in the woods.
I lay down on the bank by the water. A willow hung overhead and the branches barely swayed because of the stifling heat and the stillness of the air. Sevaric lay down beside me. While I was on my back, staring up at the interior of the willow, he lay on his side, his head supported by his arm, and he looked at me deeply and with a strange expression. A leaf fluttered down from the tree above and landed on my forehead. I was too lazy to even turn my head to dislodge it. Sevaric reached over with his free hand and gently brushed it away. I turned to look at him. Our eyes met and he smiled very slightly.
“How about a swim?” he asked, as he rose and began to undress.
I, being extremely shy about my slight build, and not an accomplished swimmer, declined, but sat up and watched as he undressed. His body was strong and firm, excellently well proportioned, and he gleefully ran towards the water and plunged in. His head immerging from the depths, he shook it like a wet Spaniel, his longish blond hair swirling off a glistening spray. He laughed and played, crossing the pond several times with a strong swimmers stroke. He called out to me.
“You should really come in. It is very cooling in this heat. Just a little way if you are afraid,” he taunted, almost daring me.
I stood up and walked to the edge of the pond and crouched down and put my hand in the water. Even that slight contact was refreshing. The grasses at the edge bent down into the water, inviting me to just slip in. However, there was something else going on with me that prevented me from moving forward. While I had greatly appreciated Sevaric’s company for some time now, I also was beginning to recognize a new feeling that was unfamiliar and a bit disturbing. I could not take my eyes off his body gliding through the water like a beguiling serpent. I felt a stirring in my – I am reluctant to utter the word, but shall use the common word I have heard on occasion from the workers in the warehouse – cock.
I did not understand this phenomenon, as I believe this is a response that is reserved for one’s wife. I have little knowledge of these things, as I have had very little education about such matters. However, my father has promised me a talk before my marriage with Celestria. Not that I have not relieved myself many times, alone in my bed in the mornings when I would awake with my member stiff and aching for release. I understood this. But this was happening to me now as I watched Sevaric, so graceful, strong and gleaming in the water. This could not be right. Though I have had some such inklings before when I would come upon a groom nearly naked in the barn on a hot day tending to our horses. But these stirrings I dismissed as flushes caused by the heat and lack of appropriate exercise. But this today was something else. This had been building in me throughout the day. Besides the great pleasure I derived from Sevaric’s company, I was aware that I wanted to be physically near him as well. I would position myself so that our shoulders would touch, or I would brush his hand as we examined a trap together. I remembered the look in his eyes, just now, as we relaxed beneath the tree, and I have no idea what that look signified.
Just then Sevaric swam over to me at the edge of the pond. He put his hands on the bank, on either side of where I was still crouching. I could not stand up because of my state of arousal, which would surely show. He did not speak, but just looked up at me, again with that mischievous smile - his eyes burning into my depths, throwing me into further confusion. I could not speak, either. He playfully splashed some water at me and laughed, leaning back and pushing off from the shore with the force of his strong legs. I could see that he too had the same problem as I.
I quickly stood and turned away so he could not see my condition. I called out to him, “I think we’d better go now. We need to find some game before we return, or both our families will be displeased.”
He forcefully swam to the shore and pulled himself out of the water, still in an aroused condition, but he did not seem to mind, or be embarrassed by it in any way. He quickly dried himself with his shirt, dressed, and presented himself to me ready to continue the hunt.
Second of April 1347
It has been difficult for me come back to this correspondence, as what I am now to recite pains me, and I have a great deal of guilt about what is to follow.
I am afraid that as a result of my discoveries about myself that day at the pond, I have behaved badly. Instead of finding some way to punish my own wayward flesh I turned my confusion and inner torment into a desire to punish Sevaric. I became very cold to him at the warehouse. I refused his entreaties to accompany me hunting - and was especially adamant about avoiding swims - and I harshly refused to lend him any of my books. He took it very badly. While he would never utter a word of protest, or reproach me in any way, I could see the pain and bewilderment in his eyes - those beautiful hazel eyes.
I foolishly urged my father to hasten the wedding, and he was greatly pleased with that, and arranged an engagement banquet for the next month. It was to be a grand affair in the fullness of summer. The house was in constant activity as my father was hosting many of the finest families in the district. The kitchen was bursting with game, slaughtered domestic animals, great cakes, pies both sweet and savory, and mounds of fruits and vegetables fresh from our orchards and gardens. My sisters were recruited to fashion masses of garlands for both interior and exterior decoration. It took two days for the servants to prepare the dining hall. Again an abundance of flowers graced the tables, and there was a bevy of servants carefully measuring each place setting and amassing an army of candles.
My father engaged the very best tailor of the district to fashion new attire for the entire family; all of us fitted out most elegantly, befitting our wealth and station.
I, by this time, was embroiled in many conflicting emotions. I was disgusted by what I considered to be the excesses of this pending event. I realized that I had been rash in persuading my father to push ahead with the wedding, and was dreading having to spend so much time and attention on Celestria, who would be increasingly in my company after the engagement. It was beginning to dawn on me that I would be marrying her in October, and I would be forever linked to her, and cut off from so many of my solitary freedoms and joys.
And my self-isolation from Sevaric was a new and growing pain. With all the constant activity and duties surrounding the impending banquet I had barely attended to my work at the warehouse, which accorded, however, with my father’s wishes. It wasn’t until the day of the event itself that I was to learn that Sevaric was to personally serve Celestria and me at the banquet supper. My father had recognized the same qualities in Sevaric that I had, and persuaded him to s
erve us, thinking it would be a compliment to me, as I had discovered and promoted him. But for me it was both a great pain and a great joy. I was racked with guilt over my treatment of him, and found, that instead of my feelings abating, they were enflamed by our separation. I would toss in my bed at night, haunted by the image of him emerging from the pond - golden, wet, erect.
The day before the banquet, tormented and unsettled, I took my horse and rode off by myself into the woods without telling anyone where I was going. I returned to our pond, and throwing myself on the bank where we had lain, wept - letting out a cry that I prayed would be heard by no one. I actually cried myself into a slumber and awoke just before dusk, knowing I would be missed at the house and would incur my father’s wrath when I returned.
As I awoke, I sensed a presence across the pond. I had slept deeply in my grief and had a difficult time focusing in the dusk. I lifted myself into a seated position and stared across the water. There on the far bank was a wolf. He stared at me for a long time, then raised his head and let out a howl, and finally turned and disappeared into the darkness of the surrounding woods. I would grow to know that cry. I would hear it many nights in the solitude of my chamber. His cry would later become my cry.
Seventh of April 1347
Again I have been absent from my recitation for a week now. The pain of looking at these shortcomings of mine has prevented me from returning until now. But I feel an urgency to complete this, as events outside of my control may soon interrupt this narrative in ways I cannot now comprehend.
I must now, with some anguish, relate the events of the day of the banquet. The morning broke with a splendid sky. A dawn of rose and pale yellow bespoke of happy nuptials – for all but me. I had been soundly scolded for my absence the afternoon and early evening before the banquet. My father’s fury was only mitigated by his pleasure in the morrow’s events. He quickly dismissed his anger and moved quickly to engage me in a hearty discussion of the joys of matrimony, including the “talk” he had promised me concerning my husbandly duties. I was mortified with embarrassment; and so, as it turned out, was he. The discussion ended up being mercifully brief and somewhat sketchy, lacking in explicit detail.
It had been a long time since the village and district had witnessed such a stunning event as our banquet. Carriages, carts and horses drew up to our entrance. Our grooms and footmen were frantic tending to the many arrivals. It could not have been a more perfect day, as a storm had moved through during the previous night, and the morning was clear and cooler than usual; preventing excessive discomfort in our packed dining hall.
I will not dwell on the banquet itself, except to say it was lavish and was all that my father had hoped for. My bride to be was at my side and we exchanged minimal conversation as her mother was on my other side and constantly plied me with a running commentary on the event, and endless questions about our business and financial success. However, I paid her scant attention as my focus was elsewhere.
Sevaric stood obediently behind me. He was dressed in the household livery. And while he was attentive to Celestria, he was lavish in his attention to me. He refilled my goblet practically after each sip of wine I took. It did not go unnoticed by me that each time he leaned forward he would brush my shoulder, or his hand would lightly touch my neck as he whisked away a fly. Again, I was overcome by the same sensations that had plagued me at the pond the day of his swim. Luckily I was wearing a jacket that covered the most prominent manifestation of my discomfort. But I could not help but notice that Sevaric suffered the same indignation as me, though he covered it well from all but me to see. A moment came when our eyes met for a brief second. He could not suppress his shy but devastating smile. I became both enflamed and chilled at the same moment. My hand began to shake as I raised the goblet to drink in an attempt to quell my flushes and violent feelings. Celestria noticed my agitation and turned to me.
“Are you well, my beloved?” she asked, placing her delicate hand on my arm.
I looked down at her hand then up into her eyes, which I am sure would enflame many another manly breast. I nodded, for I could not speak just then.
“It may be the heat. I find this hall to be extremely cloistering with this amount of guests. Will you please excuse me a moment?” I finally asked. She nodded, and as I arose her mother looked at me with a peculiar expression as I passed behind her.
Sevaric reached out to me as I escaped and asked, “Do you need my assistance sir?”
I stopped and looked at him. “Not just yet.” And I fled out of the hall, my father looking after me with some concern.
I rushed to my chambers and splashed water on my face and the back of my neck and then sat on the edge of my bed and collected my thoughts and my breath, as I had been breathing hard short breaths as I escaped the hall.
Finally, composing myself, and shedding some of the heavy outer garments that the formal occasion required, I returned to the banquet hall.
I will not relate the torture of the endless lines of well-wishers I had to endure, nor the agony of the relentless barrage of questioning from the pending in-laws. Just let it be noted that finally the ghastly event ended, and I escaped to my rooms to surrender the formal garments that restricted and enchained me.
I was desperate to escape outside and embrace the cool evening that had finally settled in; relieving me, as a gentle breeze picked up, and I began to, once again, feel a moment of tranquility and peace.
I wandered away from the house, past the barns, with the grooms still active as they put to rest the horses, still skittish from the unusual quartering of the guest’s strange mounts in their midst.
I wandered past the house gardens and orchards and into a field of corn, now grown up to the height of my waist. From there I found a sloping bank at the edge of the field covered in an array of wild flowers. I sat down and watched as the moon rose over the forest across the field. I was very near the edge of tears, once again, as I felt the depth of my sorrow, brought on solely by my own foolish actions. I lay back against the bank, closed my eyes and contemplated rash actions I might take that would only further enflame my precarious condition. I imagined flight to a foreign realm, sequestration with a sympathetic order of religious devotees, and even, I am ashamed to relate, self-annihilation.
Then, with but the faintest brush of a gentle kiss I heard whispered in my ear, “Do you need my assistance now, sir?”
I opened my eyes to see Sevaric stretched out beside me. I had not heard, nor sensed, his approach and his reclining down beside me. That is how deeply I was entranced by my own sorrow. I did not react with either shock or fear. I simply stared into his eyes, now clearly visible by the fullness of the moon. His kiss had not only awoken me, but also transformed me. I had crossed a threshold and was no longer a slave to indecision or guilt. I reached over and put my hand softly on his cheek.
“Can you forgive me?” I asked from a heart aching with longing and desire.
He barely stirred. “But there has been no hurt. There is nothing to forgive.” He buried his head between my shoulder and my neck and ever so lightly gave me another kiss. I turned towards him and took his head in my hands and brought him to me, and for the first time in my life I knew who I was.
Eighth of May 1347
Again, too long an absence from this discourse. I have read over the preceding lines many times and am astonished at what I have written. Why am I committing this to a hard reality that could be discovered and cause my ruination? I only know I must.
I have been married now since September last. The reason for the earlier date will be explained further along.
My wife is still not pregnant, and unlikely to become so. I have refused to perform my marital duties, and my poor desperate wife wildly accuses herself in my failing. How can I begin to console her, for she is such a sweet, innocent and uncomplicated creature?
I write this in part for her. It is what I would tell her if I could. By writing this I feel that I am somehow easing
her soul, even if she will never know the truth of this story from me in her present life.
I pass now from that night in the field. For me it was the true beginning of my life. My forever hidden life, I believed at that time. Suffice it to say, I discovered that evening what my whole being had been trying to get me to acknowledge for a long time. That day of betrothal to Celestria became, in fact, my night of marriage to Sevaric.
From that time forward we were nearly inseparable. We had to continue our façade at the warehouse. He was my assistant and I was his master, but we slipped, without too much discomfort, into our new relationship, masked by the conventions of our stations and work duties. He never questioned our need to conceal our affections.
Though we had consummated our relationship that night in the field, we have never really spent an entire night together in a bed and awoken together the next morning in each other’s arms as we both so much longed to do. We have had to be satisfied, instead, with our tenuous encounters in the fields or woods, far from prying eyes. Happy though these moments were, we both still longed for our own privacy and a deeper, more prolonged and intimate connection.
But an opportunity would soon present itself, which we could not then anticipate with greater joy. It was time for me to travel once again to Strasbourg with our latest shipment of merchandise, with a final destination down river on the barges. And I, of course, would need my assistant.
Our journey would comprise a full day’s journey to Strasbourg, an additional day of negotiation and unloading the shipment, and a third day’s return home. That meant two nights together at the inn. It is not uncommon for two men to share a room while traveling, even sharing the same bed, as lodging is scarce and beds even scarcer. You cannot imagine how eagerly we looked forward to that trip.
But as our journey was still several weeks away, we wanted to find agreeable activities to pass the remaining time. Sevaric’s enthusiasms were almost like those of a child, and he insisted that I be presented to his family, even though I could not reciprocate by inviting him to meet mine.