Col and Andri; the Graduation

Col and Andri: The Graduation

Col slammed his opponent to the ground and jumped on top of him. The young man he was fighting attempted to plant his soft boots in Col’s stomach to throw him over his head, but the young Wanderer was too quick for him. He grappled his adversary, and their bodies, slick with sweat, pressed close together as Col sought to pin the youth’s shoulders flat to the ground.

A young acolyte supervising the match, Evan counted aloud, “ . . .four, five, six! Col wins the bout!”

Col stepped back carefully from his opponent, even though the other reached out an arm as if to ask for help in rising.

“Oh no, you don’t, Celyn! I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you,”  Col laughed.

“I’ll get you on the rematch, horse-boy,” swore Celyn, without rancour.

Col grinned and picked up a towel from a nearby basket and rubbed the sweat from his chest. He was of the Wanderers, a race of people who roamed the land freely, travelling in small family groups in their wagons. They were known for the powerful horses that they bred. Col himself now lived at the Ruithin College of ArMor-ys as an apprentice and assistant Horsemaster. He was a handsome, free-spirited youth, with long, curling black hair—currently tied back—flashing dark eyes and light brown skin. He was fit and well-muscled from his work as a horse trainer.

“Here, let me.” A young man stepped forward and took the towel from Col, briskly rubbing down the Wanderer’s naked torso, for he wore little clothing but for tight, flexible black pants and soft, knee-high boots specially made for wrestling.

Col relaxed under the ministrations of his friend and lover, Andri, a bardic student at the College. They shared a room together and loved each other fiercely. Col turned and briefly kissed Andri on the mouth, even as he admired him. Andri was a little taller than Col, pale-skinned, with a lithe but fit body. His blond-streaked tousled hair was trimmed above the collar of his dark green student’s robe but was long and sun-bleached on top. A lock of it obscured one of his blue-grey eyes. Col thought his lover entirely enticing to look upon and admired his face with its full, curved lips, high cheekbones and slightly upturned nose.

“I’d kiss you again, but here comes Master Daraou, and decorum must be maintained, right?” he said to Andri, grinning and nudging him with an elbow.

Celyn, who had been still sitting on the ground of the Practice Arena, scrambled to his feet and hurriedly dusted himself off. He shared a knowing look with Andri. 

Surprisingly, it was Col that Master Daraou first addressed, even though both Celyn and Andri were his apprentices.

“Col, son of Kyan, what do you think you are doing with Celyn? For shame, he and Andri should be studying for the Graduation recital, not rolling around in the dirt. What if Celyn were injured? What are you thinking? Did the Horsemaster not teach you to be cognizant of what is due?”

Usually, criticism rolled off Col like water off a selkie’s back, but he was stung to hear Master Daraou criticize his own Master, a fair but strict and exacting man.

“My Master would say that even a prize stud-horse needs its exercise. You should know, Master Daraou, that I have the highest regard for both Andri and Celyn and would never deliberately hurt them . . .well, perhaps a little, but I would not injure them.”

Master Daraou narrowed his eyes, trying to discern whether Col was being disrespectful or merely plain-spoken, as was his habit.

Andri stepped in and said soothingly, “Master, you did tell us to engage in relaxation exercises to free our minds for tomorrow’s event. Well, we find wrestling a good way to work off our excess energy. Col is a skilled wrestler and is careful with both of us. We intend to shower off then go study for the choral pieces that both Celyn and I will engage in.”

Master Daraou sighed. “Tomorrow is an important day, Andri. You will be graduating to become a second-level apprentice, and Celyn to become third-level. After you sing, you must recite the Triads and play a harp solo. Then declaim an original work of poetry in englyn form. Many people will attend, not just other Masters but also parents, nobles and Ruithin of high bardic rank. Your friend, the priest Cadwyr, from King Cyndyllan’s court, arrived this afternoon for the ceremony, and I know you will want to greet him.”

“Master Daraou, this is good news indeed,” said Andri, cheered by the prospect of Cadwyr’s arrival. “I shall immediately take Celyn and Col and get them cleaned up for you. We will not let you down!”

Master Daraou’s manner eased then. “I know you won’t let me down, Andri. And I expect that Col will comport himself with decorum tomorrow. Grandmaster Neven-Tanet himself has granted permission to your friend to attend the ceremonies. You should both be honoured.”

“We are honoured,” said Col with a low bow of respect, which soothed the Music Master even more.   

*    *    *

“Come shower with us, Celyn,” invited Andri, “then we can study together afterwards.”

They turned into the room shared by Andri and his lover. Col still wore a towel about his neck over his cloak. It was unseemly for the boys to walk the halls partially undressed. Inside, they shed the remainder of their garments. Col reached over to Andri and embraced him, kissing him intimately on the mouth. Celyn peered at them from under his mane of brown curls, suddenly embarrassed as he noticed that both his friends had partial erections.

Col laughed as they entered the bathing area with a spacious waterfall shower inset into the wall. “You will have to wait one more day, my friend,” he said. “Remember it was you who reminded us that first-year apprentices were not to form physical relationships with other students. Fortunately, I am not a student, just a mere stableboy.”

Now Celyn did blush as he recalled taunting Col when they had first met, a year past. Col might work with the ArMor-ys horses, but he was far more than just a stableboy. His mastery of horses was unrivalled except for Horsemaster Gabrien himself. Recently, he had started to help instruct the Redoubt’s guardsmen on the techniques of sword fighting from horseback after a year of weapons instructions from his Master.

“Alright, no need to rub it in,” muttered the young bard.

“You mean, like . . .this?” Col placed his hand over Celyn’s genitals.

Andri slapped his lover’s hand away from the other youth’s cock. “You are in fine form tonight. Stop teasing Celyn!” He turned a lever, and warm water began to pour over the high ledge on the wall, drenching them in its welcome spray.

“I can take it . . .no, wait! Don’t say it, Col!” Celyn forestalled the Wanderer, who was about to say something smart again.

Col relented and made peace by scrubbing Celyn’s back for him. Before Celyn left for his own room that evening after their study session, Andri placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “The offer I made last year still stands. You are very welcome if you want to join Col and me tomorrow night.”

Celyn’s answering smile lit up his face.

*    *    *

Although he felt excited and a little nervous, Andri calmed himself as he walked with his fellow choral students into the Recital Hall the following day. An audience waited to greet them, consisting of students’ relatives, members of the Ruithin  College and visiting dignitaries. Andri noticed the priest, Cadwyr, who gave him a warm smile, but then he saw King Cyndyllan’s wife, the Warrior Queen, Aerfen. She raised her hands in greeting, along with the others, but her eyes sought Andri. She gave the slightest of nods. Andri was intrigued.

He then became absorbed in singing. Many graduating students came forward to sing their solos, then it was Andri’s turn. He walked to the front of the choir and bowed. 

The choral group sang the familiar introduction of the ‘Sounds of Eternity,’ then Andri began. His voice was deep and cadenced as if coming from a much older singer. The audience fell silent, gripped in his spell. Andri was filled with nostalgia, or ‘hiraeth,’ as Brynnan would have put it. The song had great significance to the young man, being the first song he had sung for the Bard, with Brynnan, his previous Master and Teacher, accompanying Andri on his harp. He could almost hear the harp notes . . .

His consciousness of his audience faded. The room seemed shrouded in a mist, and the people present seemed insignificant. Andri became aware that a semi-substantial figure was playing the harp to one side of the choir. He nearly stopped in shock, but the harp notes induced him to keep singing.

The harpist looked at him, and Andri saw it was Brynnan. He did not know then if the vision was real or not, but it felt real. Then there was a natural interlude in the song where the choir sang a verse, giving Andri time to look closer at his personal apparition that others did not notice. The Bard looked directly at him and raised one winged eyebrow giving the young singer an enigmatic smile. Then Andri sang the closing verse.

Reality rushed back in. There was silence from the audience, then great applause. Andri took his bows before retreating to his assigned place in the back row of the choir. Brynnan had disappeared.

Andri got through the rest of the recital in a daze. His poem and his harp piece were well-received. Finally, the recital ended, and the students were called forward one by one. Each was presented with a scroll, and a badge for their cloaks, indicating their new rank.

Finally, the onlookers were allowed to mingle with the students. Andri gave Celyn a warm embrace. “You were amazing!” Celyn whispered to him. “I couldn’t stop the shivers down my neck as you sang! And your technique! It was nothing that Master Daraou taught us—“

“That was my other Master, Brynnan Marec Mavrenn. When we travelled here, he schooled me every day. I really miss him . . .”

At that moment, Col arrived and gave Andri an almost boisterous embrace before he caught himself. Col’s eyes were shining in excitement.

“I have to speak to you. I heard—“ Col began, but then they were interrupted by two very welcome people, Queen Aerfen, her dark red hair in multiple braids adorned with green jewels on gold chains. She looked beautiful and powerful, wearing a long gown of green and gold with an embroidered tabard bearing the royal crest.

The Ruithin priest, Cadwyr, Andri’s friend from Queen Aerfen’s court, accompanied her. He was as tall as the Queen, slim, aged, yet with a youthful expression. His long silver hair hung loosely below his shoulders, contrasting with his crimson robe. Both Cadwyr and Aerfen greeted Andri and Col warmly and with great courtesy.

“I have a scroll for you, Andri,” Aerfen said. “My husband the King sends you a letter.” She passed the youth a silver scroll case.

Andri was mystified, but even more so when Cadwyr spoke. “Tonight, after the feast, Aerfen and I would like to invite you and Col to my chambers. We wish to introduce you to someone.”

“I thank you, Queen Aerfen and Ruithin Cadwyr. We shall gladly attend!” replied the young singer. They took leave of one another, and Col and Andri snuck out after greeting friends and teachers.

Back in their room, Col couldn’t wait to tell Andri. “While you were singing, I received a mind-call from Brynnan. It was very clear.”

“Ah, but you wait until you hear this, Col! I saw Brynnan. He was insubstantial, but he played his harp, then disappeared after finishing my song. I don’t know what to think. I doubted it really happened until just now. But I have no mind-gifts, unlike you.”

“Who knows? What with your studies and the meditations, perhaps you are developing some. That would be really amazing.”

“We shall have to see. Meanwhile, I think we have time before the feast for some—horseplay.” Andri grinned.

Col groaned at Andri’s comment. He embraced Andri and then kissed him, this time not briefly. His mouth and tongue lingered on Andri’s, who responded with fervour.

“Ride me?” Col suggested when they broke apart.

They undressed each other then showered together, scrubbing each other and preparing themselves for love.

*    *    *

At first, Andri stretched out on the bed on his back. Col lay on top of him and pinning him down, holding his lover’s wrists. They kissed, but Andri tested Col’s strength at the same time. He could not overcome him.

Then came a subtle knock at the door. Andri groaned. “It’s Celyn. I recognize the sound. Shall we let him in? We did invite him.”

“Come, Celyn!” the young Horsemaster called.

Celyn stepped in, saw the naked couple, balked, then resolutely came over to the bed.

“Umm . . .can I join in?”

“Did you wash?”

“Of course! Where did you think I came from? A stable?”

“For that, your ass will suffer,” said Col. “We were going to let you take Andri or me, but now, I think I will take you. Get undressed, now!”

Celyn couldn’t discern if Col was angry or annoyed, but he decided he’d better obey. He knew he had pushed Col. The two lovers watched Celyn, offering no help.

But once he joined them on the bed, Col seemed to relent, for he reached over and kissed Celyn, then moved aside so Andri could reach him to caress his body.

“I have to tell you, my friends, that I am an ass-virgin. Will that be a problem?” said Celyn.

“Don’t be nervous,” Andri replied. “I am glad you are telling us. Before, you always hinted that you were experienced. But it’s alright, it really is.”

Col winked at Celyn. “You are lucky: both Andri and I were taught by a Master in the sexual arts, and we were both ass virgins at the time. So—we can pass on our knowledge.”

“What shall I do first?”

Andri smiled, and his eyes carried a wicked glint in them. “You lie down on your back and do—nothing! Just relax while I practice my oral skills on you. I know you’ve fantasized about that, haven’t you?”

The older apprentice complied and stretched himself out on the bed beside Col. Andri’s suggestions had apparently excited him, for his cock was already springing erect. While not as long as Andri’s, Celyn’s member was quite thick, with a substantial head, already dripping with pre-cum.

Andri climbed beside him but positioned himself so that his head was over Celyn’s loins. He admired the cock first, then ran a finger along the shaft with a light touch. He wound his fingers in the pubic bush nesting around the cock and gripped it firmly, positioning the prick upright and running his tongue along Celyn’s inner thighs over the firm ball sack.

Celyn made a sound of delight but was silenced as Col kissed him, probing his mouth to touch his tongue. The young Wanderer’s hand stroked the apprentice’s chest and played with his nipples. Meanwhile, Andri got to work and took Celyn’s cock in his mouth. He licked the head, swirling his tongue around it before he sucked the cock in deep.

“If you keep that up much longer, you’ll make me cum,” Celyn groaned.

“Mmm . . .that won’t do,” said Col. “Come up here, Andri, and you Celyn; turn over. It is time.”

Col took a bottle of lubricant and played with Celyn’s ass, priming him with his fingers. The young man submitted. Celyn leaned over Andri’s cock and began sucking it. He had seemingly performed oral sex before as he displayed some skill in the task.

Col pushed a rolled-up blanket under Celyn to raise his ass more, and the apprentice spread his legs. When Col deemed that he was ready to be penetrated, he rubbed more lubricant on his own stiff shaft and, without teasing, brought it to the entrance of the anus.

“I am going in now, Celyn. Breathe deep and stop me whenever it starts to hurt. When you relax, it will become easier, I promise!”

He pushed slowly and steadily, and his cock gained entry. Celyn had him hold still a few times, but it was not long before he relaxed.

“I’m all the way in now. How does it feel?” asked Col.

“It’s amazing! Please don’t stop now!”

“I’ll make you a deal. I will fuck you as long as you keep sucking Andri’s cock,”

Celyn complied eagerly, and Andri smiled.

“That’s it, Celyn,” said Andri. “Suck me properly. Now you see what a good horse-trainer my beloved is. He is riding you and has you doing obedience work. Maybe now you will show him more respect.”

Andri was only half-joking, and Celyn could only make an affirmative noise in his throat as he sucked.  Col was indeed ‘riding’ now and fucked Celyn’s ass in a steady thrusting drive. He seemed in no hurry to cum but meant to make the young man suck Andri to completion. Eventually, the sensations were too much for Andri to contain.

“Get ready, Celyn, you are getting my cum . . .now!”

Andri gasped deeply, grasping his cock with one hand and Celyn’s brown curls with his other hand, forcing his friend’s mouth to stay down. The sight excited Col into his own orgasm, and he ejaculated with several long, hard thrusts. Then he slapped Celyn’s ass hard.

“Good mare. Turn over now, and I will finish you off.”

Col pulled out as Celyn obeyed him. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes shone as Col masturbated him with his hand while Andri leaned down and kissed the young man.

“I’m going to cum!” Celyn gasped between kisses. Then he matched action to his words as his ejaculate fountained from his cock, hitting his stomach and face. Col took the cum and smoothed it into Celyn’s cock, enjoying the slippery feel of it.

Spent, they rested together in companionable silence. After a while, Andri said, “Come, let’s clean up. Part of me would rather stay here, but it’s time for the feast, and I want to see what our priest, Cadwyr, is up to.”

“He is a close advisor to King Cyndyllan, and he is also your friend?” said Celyn, seeming impressed.

“Yes, when my Master, Brynnan, left with his companions a year ago, Cadwyr rode with us to see them off and accompanied me back to the College. We got to know each other. I like him—I like King Cyndyllan, too. He was kind to me when I was in Yrys.”

“Anyway, that was amazing for the first time getting my ass worked over. It’s an event I will remember. Thanks, both of you. And I am truly sorry for being such a pain to you, Col. I’ll try and do better.”

“Yes, how many more times do I have to beat you at wrestling to make my point?” asked Col, as he turned on the waterfall shower they were standing under.

“A lot more times,” Celyn said. “To be perfectly honest, I love the feel of your skin on mine as we wrestle, especially when we sweat.”

“And here I thought you were just a glutton for punishment,” said Col.

“Oh, I am that, too,” grinned Celyn as he soaped Andri’s chest.

*    *    *

In the Feasting Hall, Celyn went to join his third-year apprentice friends, and Andri and Col were fetched by an attendant to be seated with Queen Aerfen and the priest Cadwyr. There were other high dignitaries at their table, Including Master Daraou. Still, Andri did not feel out of place, used as he was to accompanying Brynnan, Master Bard and Priest, in previous times. Col, however, was not accustomed to people of noble rank, but his easy nature and learned good manners allowed him to fit in well.

He struck up a conversation with Queen Aerfen, King Cyndyllan’s consort and a battle chieftain in her own right. She and Col readily discussed horseback battle manoeuvres while Andri talked to Cadwyr.

“It is good to see you, my young friend. I am really impressed with your progress. The solo you sang with the choir was haunting. Seldom have I heard it performed so well. It seems you are enjoying your studies,” the priest told him.

“It’s hard work, but I thrive on it. I bless my Master, Brynnan, for placing me here, and I am grateful to the Grandmaster. He allowed Col to stay with me and gave him a place and a purpose. But when I sang today, something extraordinary happened.”

“Tell me,” said Cadwyr.

“I heard faint harp music and saw Brynnan accompanying me. There seemed to be a mist in the room, and he was there but not fully realized. I have told no one but Col. However, I trust you, Cadwyr.”

A strange smile lit Cadwyr’s countenance. “That is extremely interesting. However, I do not wish to discuss it here—it’s too public. Were you and Col planning on coming to my rooms after we have feasted?”

“Yes. Col and I have decided to stay just as long as is polite then leave. It will not be too late this night to visit you?”

“Not at all. Now give your good wishes to Queen Aerfen. She seems entirely taken up conversing with your lover.” Cadwyr’s smile was now mischievous.

*    *    *

Before Andri and Col visited Cadwyr, they returned to their own room and changed into less formal attire. Andri exchanged his dark green student’s cloak for the crimson cloak gifted to him by a warrior of the Deieros. It had potent memories attached to it. As he fastened it, Col questioned him.

“Aren’t you going to read the scroll that the Queen gave you? I want to hear what it says.”

“Oh, right. I nearly forgot. I’m too distracted right now. Pass it to me, please, Col?”

Andri opened the metal case, and a roll of parchment slid out. He unrolled it, and his eyes sped over it. He looked up at Col.

“It’s an invite from King Cyndyllan, written in his own hand!”

“Well? Don’t make me pry it out of you.”

“He requests my presence—our presence—on the first day of summer, the day the Queen of Summer is chosen. He remembers me very fondly—“

“I bet he does!” Col interjected, grinning.

“Yes, I sang for him, then I sucked his cock—I shouldn’t be so crude. I did offer, and he was very kind to me . . .”

“So what does he want? More sex? What about Queen Aerfen?”

“She knows, and she seems fine with it. She was in the room with us when I sang. Before she left, she winked at me and said something suggestive. Anyway, King Cyndyllan wants me to help choose the Summer Queen. That’s quite an honour. A fully-fledged Ruithin bard usually does it.”

“Cadwyr must know of the letter.”

“I will ask him. Are you up for an adventure with me when summer approaches?”

“What do you think? I only hope my Master Gabrien allows me to go.”

“Maybe we could arrange for Queen Aerfen’s guard to train you in some new horseback fighting techniques. She is a renowned warrior,” mused Andri.

“Anyway, let’s talk about it as we go. Are you ready?” Col reached out and kissed his lover.

*    *    *

Cadwyr himself opened the chamber door when Andri and Col arrived. As they stepped in, they saw Aerfen, seated, still in her green-and-gold finery, with a female attendant standing behind her chair. The young woman was dressed in fighter’s gear. Her sword scabbard was empty, but a long knife hung at her belt. The Queen stood when the two boys entered.

“We shall leave you now, Cadwyr, to see to your guests,” she said.

Andri sank to one knee in respect and bowed his head. “My Queen, we read the King’s message. With our Masters’ permission, we will be privileged to attend the Court at Yrys at the appointed date. I thank the King for the honour he does us. I will give you a written reply for him early tomorrow morning. I also look forward to entertaining the King again—with my voice, I mean.” Andr flushed.

The Queen laughed easily. “I am sure he will enjoy your company; however you present it. As for you, Col, I thank you for our exchange of conversation this evening and hope we will get to put some fighting techniques into practice when you visit. I leave here at noon tomorrow. I have requested your presence in our escort as far as the Crag of Angels. Farewell.”

Col bowed low, “And I thank you, Queen Aerfen.”

Col and Andri stood when the Queen and her attendant had left, both feeling bemused and a little overwhelmed at the honour shown them.

“Be seated,” said Cadwyr. “The King and Queen do nothing without reason, but I know you both will behave circumspectly. The Grandmaster will want to see you both when the time comes. And now, I have something to disclose to you.”

Mystified, the two young men sat and waited. Cadwyr stood at the side of the room and closed his eyes. Sensitive to mind communication as Col was, he became aware that Cadwyr was sending a message to someone, but he was not privy to his mind-voice. The room began to chill. The temperature dropped rapidly, and a mist formed in the air.

A sense of expectancy gripped Andri as he watched, barely daring to breathe. A form coalesced in the centre of the room, slowly becoming more defined. They saw the figure of a man in a robe the colour of dark amethyst, with hair like a raven’s wing flowing over his shoulders and a close-trimmed dark beard. Flashing eyes like onyx caught Andri’s gaze, and a wild surge of emotion gripped the young singer.

“Brynnan!” he cried joyfully.

This time the figure passed beyond the phase of insubstantiality and became fully realized, his presence solid and in the flesh. Andri did not question its reality. Brynnan, his erstwhile Master and teacher, had come to visit Col and him once before in such a manner, back when invaders occupied the land. Brynnan had arrived fresh from conflict with the enemy and had been unutterably weary. The three of them had made love that had restored the Bard’s spirit. Brynnan did not seem weary now, although Andri knew that appearing in such a manner took a toll.

“Greetings, my friends,” said the Bard. “My Father in the Underworld, and my lover, Samir, have allowed me to come to you.”

“But it is marvellous to see you!” cried Col, stepping forward. “May I embrace you, or will you melt or something?”

Brynnan laughed and took Col in his arms, holding him in a fierce embrace. “I will not melt!” Then he looked at Andri. “How could I stay away on such an important occasion as your graduation to second-level bardic apprentice? You have done so well. My heart rejoices with you.”

Andri, too, embraced the Bard. “A thousand thanks. I have missed you. We have not seen you since last summer at the Narib conference with the Invaders, the Sojourners. But it is good to feel you in the flesh again. I noticed your presence at the recital. Were you indeed there?”

“Partly. I sent my Spirit-Shadow form. I just had to hear you sing.”

Cadwyr interrupted, “But now, my friends, let us be seated once more and allow me to offer you wine.” He lifted a jug from the table and filled four goblets.

Col jumped up and passed them to Andri and Brynnan before taking one himself.

“How shall we celebrate this occasion?” Cadwyr continued. “With song, or—?”

“—Love . . .” finished Brynnan.

“I vote for love,” said Col. “I always vote for love.”

“What? Don’t you like my singing? Or Brynnan’s?” teased Andri.

“Your singing inspires me, and I hope we can love each other, then convince you and Brynnan to sing to us afterwards. What do you think, Master Cadwyr?”

“Music, or Love. Is there truly a difference?” said Cadwyr.

“Yes, there is!” answered Col boldly. “Music is pure and clean—well, mostly. Sometimes it can be dark . . . but lovemaking is wonderfully messy and sweaty, and you get all covered with dried cum—“

“Col! I am shocked; well, not really. You have a point. So shall we get sweaty and spill cum all over ourselves? Pardon me, Cadwyr, but do you wish to get messy too? I hope you will,” said Andri.

“How can I refuse when you put it so enticingly?” Cadwyr replied.

So they began their own private celebration. The four men stripped. Kisses were exchanged; tentative at first, then increasing in ardour. They took turns sucking each other’s cocks, rimming and licking each other. Then Brynnan paired off with Andri and Cadwyr with Col. The two older men took the position as dominant partners. Both Andri and Col bent over the high bed, side by side, with their partners standing behind them. Then each became lost in the sensations of fucking and being fucked.

Andri revelled in the feeling of Brynnan’s cock in his ass. It almost felt like a homecoming, as he recalled how he and Brynnan would make love when he had travelled with him and his friends, the old Warrior, Geraint, and Nijal, the Guardian and battlefield surgeon.

“Take me, Brynnan, Master,” Andri murmured, feeling ecstasy. “Put your cum in me.”

He felt Col’s hand gripping his and looked across to see that his lover was smiling at him as he was fucked by the Ruithin. Andri leaned over and kissed him.

“I think I’m cumming very soon,” Col announced.

“Whenever you are ready, young man,”  Cedwyr answered. “I’ll cum with you.”

“You first then,” Col replied.

Cadwyr increased his pace. “Now,” he said.

“Oh, I can feel it! I’m cumming with you!” Col announced, groaning as he ejaculated. His sides heaving, he breathed deeply and sighed as Cadwyr withdrew.

“I’m afraid I messed up your bed, Cadwyr,” he said.

“I put a spare sheet on the bed. Don’t worry. Now come, if you will, and let me embrace you while our friends continue their play. We can watch,” replied the priest.

Cadwyr drew Col up on the bed alongside him as Brynnan and Andri continued their lovemaking. Brynnan edged Andri skillfully, bringing him close to ejaculation several times. At last, he had mercy and allowed Andri to cum. The boy cried out in his passion, and Brynnan came. He rested briefly over Andri’s back, stroking him before slowly pulling out. The four of them lay on Cadwyr’s bed, exchanging lazy kisses.

“This has been the second-best day since I came to ArMor-ys,” said Andri.

“Alright,” said Cadwyr. “That begs the question: don’t keep me in suspense. What was the best day?”

“It was the day I walked into my room after voice practice, and I found Col standing there. He had journeyed for weeks to come and be with me. I will never forget it!”

Col grinned and reached over to muss up Andri’s blond-streaked hair. “That was my best day, too,” he replied.

Brynnan said, “Speaking of voice practice, are you up to singing one more song today, Andri?”

The young singer turned and gazed into Brynnan’s dark eyes. “That would please me indeed. I have missed sharing that with you. May we sing a song in the Shadow-style?”

Shadow-singing was so named because the singer was “in the shadows,” as it were, sublimating personality to give precedence to his voice. The method tended to evoke strong emotions in the listeners.

“Yes,” replied Brynnan. “You choose the emotions, my lad.”

“Very well . . .I choose rebirth: joy, awakening. It is a graduation today, and I hope there will be more to come. And I hope you manage to attend each one, Brynnan.”

“As my Father and my lover and the Mother-of-All allow, I will attend. Now come. I will start; you join in on the second phrase. No ghost-notes tonight, just plainsong.”

Brynnan chose a song that he knew Andri was familiar with. They had sung it before: ‘The Pass of the Sun.’ He sang the first phrase in his rich, nuanced voice, then Andri joined in with his beautiful baritone. Cedwyr and Col settled back to listen, entranced . . .

Out in the corridor, two Ruithin priests were passing. They paused to listen.

One said, “That is the wonderful young singer we heard today—Andri of Torrent Mountain, I believe. But who sings with him with such a skilled voice?”

“That is Cadwyr’s room. I would stay and hear the song, but let us give them their privacy. I didn’t know Cadwyr could sing like that!”

“Neither did I. We are truly blessed, where such music lives in these halls.”

They walked on.

*    *    *