Chapter one – Brothers and Friends
The boy awoke, Kyleis or just Kye as his friends and family had called him since he could remember sat up resting his elbows on the long, lush grass he had fallen asleep on an hour ago, or at least he hoped only an hour had passed. Being Sunday, his usual chores were light but still if he did not attend to them before dinner, he would be in for it, especially today of all days. Tomorrow was Marc’s 21st birthday, his brother; his only real friend since his mother had passed away was going away tomorrow perhaps forever or for at least the 5 years demanded by the church for new seminarian knights of the Star.
Not many options were available to poor country folk in Kye’s little village of Lewthe, coming of age meant either working the land of your lord or going into his militia – both options almost as bad for any one of Kye and his brothers temperaments – apprenticeship to a local trades family was very rare as this was usually reserved for their own son’s, the only other option, freebooting was frowned upon and meant a life of the vagabond not welcomed in their village.
So it was that Marc was joining the local priest on his pilgrimage to Mother Church of the Star with recommendations for his admission to the knight’s college. Usually reserved for the children of titled landholders Kye had no idea how his father had arranged the admission and his father was even more tight lipped than usual about it. Not lost on Kye was the realisation that in just three years he needed to make a similar choice and the option for service to the church was even rarer than those few apprenticeships available in his village.
Kye and Marc’s father spent most of his time working in the care of his Lord Halsted’s land and estate. A solitary man, since the death of his wife he had begun to drink more than was his usual and the once neat and kempt cottage that had been home to the happy family was now showing signs of neglect and a lack of maintenance commensurate with the depression produced by the death of a life partner and lover. A kind man, who always made time for the encouragement and love of his two boys he was now rarely at home, if not working the estate or his little plot of land adjacent to their cottage allowed for the growing of their own crop and vegetables, he was at the local tavern quietly drowning his sorrows. Still food was always on the table and with the help of Kye and Marc the essentials of daily life continued unabated if a little less enthusiastically than before.
Kye’s last remaining chore of the day was to clean out Bailey’s stable, Bailey a young Dales pony won by his father in a card game two months previous had become almost an obsession for Kye, whenever he had free time and was not engaged in trailing behind his brother and idol Marc he could be found with Bailey, even if his father had insisted that Bailey was not a pet and was there only to help as a work horse and for cartage for their small plot of land.
Kye was busily engaged with replacing the straw that lined the small stable that was home to Bailey when he was startled by a firm hand to his shoulder. “Hey Brat”. Kye turned quickly losing his footing on the newly placed straw only to be caught and steadied by his brother Marc. “Whoa - steady their little bro” exclaimed Marc “you almost ended up in Bailey’s old straw” pointing to the pile of used and very dirty straw beside the new. Laughing Marc said, “there wouldn’t be enough soap in the village to make that smell go away for a week if you landed in it headfirst”.
Marc was a very handsome young man, taller than Kye as befitted his extra three years of age, he was well built with muscle earned from the manual labour expected of a young man helping around the tiding, but still slender with small waist, fine features, clear blue eyes, tanned and topped with mousey blonde hair carelessly tousled hanging over one eye. “Do me a favour brat, Da won’t be home until sundown, I still need to tidy up inside the cottage, but I also need to see Thomis, it’s my last chance to say goodbye”.
Thomis was Marc’s best friend, son of a nearby farm labourer they were the same age and had been almost inseparable since they were young children; in fact, they so closely resembled each other in appearance that many folks in the village gossiped about Thomis true parentage. That was until our father heard such gossip and forcibly put a stop to it there and then, I believe the original instigator ended up with a blackened eye and sore jaw for his rumour mongering.
Making sure of his footing Kye said “but I thought Thomis was supping with us tonight to say fare well Marc.” Marc replied, “He is, but I just need to see him first ok, alone!” Kye looked into Marc’s eyes; there was suddenly a sadness or seriousness to them that Kye had rarely seen as Marc was more often than not prone to larger-than-life smiles and eyes filled with mirth. “Ok Marc” Kye replied with a sardonic grin as he light-heartedly attempted to push his big brother into the pile of dirty straw, he himself had just been saved from, unsuccessful of course Kye jumped aside to dodge Marc’s backhand reply and raced off to the little cottage waving back to his only sibling.
Kye stopped outside the entrance to the cottage to rinse his arms and face in the barrel of water that sat permanently on the side of the porch and shivered back as the cold water almost took his breath. Kye had always hated cold water, although not one of those boys of a delicate nature that fore cried any discomfort, he had always thought to himself that some affronts to nature such as this freezing water were really just a bit too much.
Inside the cottage Kye quickly surveyed the scene, he went firstly to the slowly roasting spit of lamb hanging over the homes large fire pit and turned the spit arm a quarter notch and basted the meat with a herby mixture his Da had made before leaving on a mystery errand – an extravagance for the family who usually ate well enough but certainly not like this, this was Marc’s going away meal and Thomis and his parents were coming for dinner too.
The cottage itself was only four rooms, the main room with the kitchen fire pit and pantry cupboard also included a large family table of raw edged walnut with well-worn bench seating, four handmade wooden chairs a few shelves and a large chest for those items considered to be of special family significance. There was also his Da’s room – the only room separated by a real door and a small attached bath house with an old cast tub separated from the main cottage by what was once a lovely curtain when his Ma had been alive but was now a bit tattered and sad looking, and a ladder leading to the only other room, the loft bedroom shared by Marc and himself.
Kye figured the only room that could use a quick tidy was the main room of the cottage as no one else would be seeing the rest – this would be quick he thought, he might even have time to catch up to Marc and Thomis, he guessed they would be in the old broken down barn about half mile from the cottage, that’s where they tended to hide and hang out when time allowed or they were avoiding chores. Kye keenly eyed the tattered bath house curtain with a shudder, remembering the cold-water barrel outside and promptly decided to place some large pots of water to the side of the fire pit before he did anything else.
Chapter two will reveal Marc and Thomis real relationship and the passion they share.
