The Pledge - 1. Part 1 The Pledge

The Pledge

Part One

Mature elms and oaks spread their branches over the well-trodden lane. The tree’s leaves and the sun dappled the path in the cool of the summer morning. For two hundred years, shepherds had walked this hard-packed path with their sheep or goats.

The south field had been used well by the grazing animals for several weeks, and ten-year-old Tristan Cooperson used his shepherd’s crook to guide his flock down the small lane to the next field. The herder was small in stature, not much taller than the sheep he herded. He wore a black cloth cap, a plain brown shirt and trousers.

To move the flock he’d first run down the narrow lane, leaving his charges alone for several minutes to open, and secure the gate of the next pasture. With the lane blocked in front of them and the high hedges that grew along the sides of the lane, the sheep had no choice but to enter their new pasture.

Now he walked behind his sheep, not rushing the skittish creatures. He spoke to them softly, to encourage and calm them.

Mr. Keely, the head stockman, had told his young shepherd when he first began to watch the animals ‘If a sheep can find a way to kill itself, it will. A gentle calm hand boy, that’s what’s needed.’

Tristan had moved almost all of the sheep into the new pasture when ahead of him on the road he heard the rhythmic clopping of horses’ hooves and the impatient neighs of some fiery steeds as they were pulled to a stop.

Ready to close the gate, Tristan waited for some stragglers to follow their brothers and sisters into the new grazing ground. He looked up as a large roan carrying a finely dressed gentleman rode toward him at speed. The man was yelling at him and waving his riding crop.

“Close that blasted gate, boy!”

Tristan swallowed. He knew his place and he tried to move his last charges into the new pasture quickly.

The horse was pulled up sharply when it reached the gate which remained open across the lane. Annoyed, the horse reared slightly and tossed its head.

Sir James Simeon struck the urchin before him on the right shoulder with his riding crop. He neither noticed nor cared that the boy winced. “Get this blasted gate closed, boy! Do you know who is waiting?”

“No Sir, but I need to wait for the sheep to go int—.” Tristan was interrupted by Sir James.

“That is Lord William.”

“Yes Milord.” Tristan said softly. He rubbed the welt rising on his shoulder.

Finally the last of the sheep had wandered into the pasture. With his flock all accounted for, Tristan tugged on the leather thong to pull the gate closed. To secure it he dropped the leather ring over both the gate and fence posts.

The clip-clop of another horse drew both Simeon and Tristan’s attention. This time it was Lord William himself. Tristan dropped to one knee in deference. The wall, the grass, fence, sheep, and Tristan himself belonged to William, the Sixth Lord of Elmet.

“James, what the deuce is holding us here?” William looked at the boy who hadn’t moved.

William silenced James as he started to reply, with a bored wave. Instead he gazed at Tristan.

“Boy, get up.”

Tristan rose to his feet and dragged his cloth cap from his head. “Milord.” He dared not look up at his master.

“You are one of my shepherds, boy?”

“Yes, Milord.”

William spurred his horse forward, moving closer to the wall and gate. He looked over the calm, idyllic scene of his sheep safely grazing the bright green grasses. “Fine looking sheep too, my boy.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“What is your name boy? Your age?”

“Tristan, Sir. I am ten, Milord.”

William glanced away and whispered to himself. “Tristan … lovely young man—much too young though—for now.” Turning back he addressed Sir James, “Go back and get the rest of them James, my dear.”

Simeon, wheeled his horse and trotted back the waiting party.

William focused on his young servant. “Tristan, I hope you will remain under my protection; work hard and we’ll see what can become of you.”

“Yes, Milord. That is what I want.”

“Excellent! Out of the way now my boy, for comes my party and those sheep need your keen eye.”

Not needing to be told twice, Tristan climbed onto the stone wall and settled himself to watch the gaily dressed courtiers ride by. One of the ladies, side-saddle, dressed in low-cut lemon yellow silk, blew him a cheeky kiss as the group moved past. Tristan could not help but grin.

***

Once the night shepherd and his dog arrived in the early evening, Tristan trudged back to the House. He was tired and hungry and he wanted his bed.

But before he could eat, Tristan had to visit the Bathing Room. William keenly believed everyone—the court, their families and his staff—must be clean. So much so that he employed people to heat water and tend to the baths and bathers.

Tristan entered the staff’s Bathing Room, quickly stripped and washed himself. Once dry, he dressed and went to eat. The boy thought, ‘If it means I can eat, I’ll wash as much as he wants.’

The hall that led to the kitchen was filled with the most delicious odours. They mingled together causing a rumbling stomach in the waif. Once inside, Tristan was handed a bowl of hot meat and vegetables with two thick slices of the rough bread the baker made each day, each was lashed with fresh creamy butter.

Making his way to the rear of the room, Tristan put his food on the Stockman’s table and slid onto the roughly hewn bench. He sat gratefully and tried to eat slowly. He poured water from a pitcher into a rough wooden cup and drank deeply.

Mr. Keely joined his youngest stockman at the table. “There’s been a complaint about you, Tristan.”

The boy raised his eyes to meet his master’s. “What kind of complaint? I’ve done nothing wrong, Mr. Keely.”

“Aye, I didn’t think so, but I’ve to speak with you anyway. Tis about the fastening of the gate across the lane today.”

Tristan sighed and thought, ‘That’s Sir James’ doing more than likely. He wants the attentions of Lord William and will do anything to get them.’

“But Mr. Keely, I only did what you taught me. And they are Lord William’s sheep!”

“T’was not Lord William, t’was his … pet. I’ve said tying the gate is the only way to move the sheep with safety and they are the Lord’s. But the fop insists you refused to close the gate.”

“Only for a few minutes. There were ten stragglers. Sir James only had to wait a few moments, sir.”

“The problem is he wants you punished for ignoring his command.”

Tristan’s heart dropped. “That’s not fair! I did nothing wrong, Mr. Keely.”

Keely got to his feet and clapped a hand on the boy’s left shoulder. “Go to bed, boy. I’ll be with you for your audience tomorrow—never fear.”

Tristan walked out of the main house, out to the stable where he had a corner for his own. He climbed the outdoor stairs and made his way to the small space that held his cot, a small pile of extra clothes and a box where he put his ‘treasures’.

He pulled off his clothes and folded them like his mother had taught him. He sat on the edge of the rough straw mattress, lay down and pulled his thin blanket over himself.

Other men came in, laughing and talking. It wasn’t they who kept him awake—it was his fear of an audience with Lord William. Afraid, Tristan turned to the wall, pulled his knees up close, and quietly sucked his thumb as he rocked himself gently.

***

“Get up you scrawny rat!”

Tristan heard and felt the thump as someone kicked his bed. “All right, all right. I’m getting up.” He sat and swung his legs over the side. Once the men had left, Tristan poured water into a large bowl and splashed it on his face. He pushed his wet hands through his hair.

He dressed quickly, and then ran downstairs and straight into Mr. Keely.

“Tristan, slow down. Come on, let’s get to the kitchens and we’ll have a bite to get us started."

Keely walked briskly with a much-slower Tristan tailing him.

They entered the large stone building and walked down one flight to the lower kitchen, where the staff ate. Keely steered Tristan to the stockmen’s table and went to get their food.

Tristan sat on the bench, folded his arms on the table and put his head down. He wanted to weep in frustration. He was getting angry now; it wasn’t fair.

Keely felt sorry for his young charge. Tristan had arrived in his care at age eight, when there were too many children in the boy’s home. His parents found him a place with Lord William’s house and dumped him there for all intents and purposes. The parents hadn’t been back, nor had Tristan been home.

The boy was a good worker, but Keely knew he was missing the love and support that children need. He’d spoken to his wife, who looked after their own five, but an orphan sixth was not a welcome suggestion. One exception was Christmas, when Keely put his foot down and said the boy would stay for the week.

Now, the Lord’s plaything, Sir James, was going to cause trouble. Lord William was a good man. He was a rich man and handled his farms and houses well. They made both him and his tenant farmers money and he treated his workers decently.

William had had many lovers, most of them quiet and not long out of adolescence, but this one was different. Sir James Simeon liked to order people about and put his long beaky nose where it didn’t belong. Some of the lord’s men were tired of his interference but William seemed oblivious.

Keely had heard talk of William travelling away for a year or so and he was looking for a farm manager to look after his affairs while he was away. Keely wanted that position and had applied for it.

As he returned to the table with fresh current buns and two mugs of weak ale, Keely hoped this morning Lord William would listen wisely and ignore the words of his lover. ‘I do not want to lose Tristan. He has lots of potential to be so much more than he is.’

“Right, boy, sit up. Get this down your neck and a bun too. Mrs. Kirkpatrick has outdone herself this fine day. I think she put extra currants in these!”

Tristan drank his ale and pulled apart the tender current scone and took a bite. Mr. Keely was correct, they were delicious and he had to agree, there were extra currants in there.

Mr. Keely pulled out his pocket watch, noted the time and glanced at Tristan who was watching him carefully. “Come on, boy. Let’s get this over with. Don’t worry. I will be right there.”

The pair walked up the stairs and through the staff hall to the Great Hall. Lord William and Sir James were there, as were many from the Court. At the back were farmers in to ask for help or answer a charge.

The audience began on time at 9am, and at 10am Tristan was called to the front. He walked on shaking legs and dropped to one knee before his Lord and Master. Behind him, Keely bowed. Sir James stood to one side as the complainant. One of the House Guard read the charge.

“This boy, Tristan Cooperson, is charged with failing to obey an order. That he did willfully not close a gate when ordered to by Sir James Simeon, yesterday on Lamb’s Lane, Sir. “

Lord William closed his dark blue eyes for an instant, slowly drew in a deep breath, and turned to the Guardsman. “Thank you, Bacon.”

He then faced Sir James. “Sir James, pray describe what is the nature of this boy’s crime against you.”

Simeon, dressed in his finest, pulled himself up and drank in a large cleansing breath. “My Lord, yesterday this boy failed to follow an order from me to close the gate that blocked the full expanse of Lamb’s Lane. In fact, he said to me, ‘it would just take a few minutes.’ After I’d told him it was you waiting, Sir.”

“Is this the case, boy—Tristan?” Lord William asked. “Please stand up, child.”

Tristan was white as got to his feet. “Um … a … well yes, Sir.”

William leaned forward, his hands clasped between his knees. He smiled at Tristan. “Boy, tell me what happened and why you didn’t obey Sir James’ order.”

“Well, Sir … um … Lord William, Sir—I was moving the sheep from the South pasture to the North, and Mr. Keely told me to always open the gate of the new pasture and secure it well, so that when I move the sheep they can’t run off … Sir.”

“I see, go on.”

“Well, then Sir James rode up and asked me to close the gate. I said it will just be a few minutes because of the few stragglers, Sir. He was angry and hit me. But I was just doing my job, Lord William, Sir. Them is your sheep, Sir.” Tristan said his piece staring down at the stone floor.

Lord William rose to his feet. ‘Damn James for causing all this nonsense!’

“Boy, where did he hit you?”

Tristan pulled his shirt away and showed Lord William the welt.

William looked at James with such contempt the man took a step back.

William squatted by the boy. “Tristan, you are in charge of my sheep. You protect and keep them healthy and safe. And you did that yesterday and in the face of an order. You did well. There will be no punishment, my boy.”

Rising again to his full height, William called Keely forward and spoke to him quietly. “Let him have the day off. You’re both free to go.”

Then William, his face stony, glared at James. “Sir James, would you please join me in the small council chamber.”

Keely silently thanked both Lord William and God, that Tristan would not be punished.

“You heard Lord William, Tris, you may go and enjoy a free day.” Keely began to walk from the Great Hall. Tristan trotted at his side.

“Mr. Keely, what will I do though? I’d rather work, sir.”

Keely stopped. “Well, Toby has taken your sheep today. You can spend the day with me if you like. Perhaps you’ll learn something about the other animals and my other duties. Would that do?”

Grinning broadly, Tristan replied happily, “Aye, sir. I’d like that very much.”

Keely, laid a hand on the boy’s left shoulder and his voice was softer. “As will I, Tristan. Now, come on, I’ve much to attend to.”

Lord William sent Sir James away, saying their relationship had been a mistake. He appointed Basil Keely as his Manager, to look after his home and concerns while he was away. He knew Keely would care for the place and people as he did.

In turn Keely chose some men to help him and he included in those, a personal assistant and apprentice in Tristan.

Lord William’s year away turned into nearly six, and everyone said, upon his return, he was still kind but that something inside him had changed. He kept Keely on as Manager and had told him he wanted little to do with the day-to-day issues. He promised to begin to attend the Audiences again, but only if they were done in the evenings.

‘The missus will not like that. But she does like the money, so I’m sure she will find a way to accept it.’ Keely thought upon hearing the news.

Tristan too, would be expected to attend the Audiences, as Keely’s second-in-command. He was going on to sixteen when Lord William returned. More than once he’d caught William’s beautiful blue eyes on him. Tristan found the idea of William’s favouring interest very exciting.

One evening, Tristan was in the small council chamber, which was off the Great Hall. He was preparing the room for a private audience when he heard the door close. When he looked around, William stood there leaning against the only exit.

Though he’d often fantasized about scene like this while in his lonely bed, now Tristan found he was afraid in addition to being a little excited.

“Si … sir, can I help you?” Tristan stammered.

William leaned against the door and let his eyes sweep over the perfect boy before him. He pushed back his unruly hair and smiled. He could smell the nervousness in the younger man. “Are you afraid of me, Tristan?”

“N … no sir, not really.”

William walked to the boy ‘Oh, he smells so delicious. So young … so fresh.’ He reached out and pulled the boy to him, holding him against his body. He turned Tristan around, embracing him from the rear. William nuzzled the tender flesh of the boy’s neck.

Tristan stood still in the Lord’s arms. It felt so good to be held, though he knew William’s embrace was a selfish one. When his Master held him from behind, Tristan’s cock twitched as he felt William’s hard member pressing against his bottom. He drew his breath sharply when William’s hand rubbed a nipple, caressed his belly, and then with a single finger dragged it over the boy’s hard member. All that and William’s ragged cool breath made him groan and shiver.

“You will be mine one day, Tristan. You will give me yourself willingly—you will want me.”

Tristan wanted him now, he wanted to turn and kiss Lord William, beg him to take him right there on the table, but William had already released him and was walking from the room.

Weak knees threatened to no longer support him, so Tris slumped into a chair. He took in some deep breaths in an effort to steady his nerves. After several minutes, he got up to finish preparing the table.

Shortly after this William was away travelling again. People had noticed the change in him before he chose to go. He was darker, drinking heavily, rarely left home during the day and came to anger quickly. They were in fact happy he was away.

***

After five years, upon his arrival back home William set about changing things. First, he set-up and employed a personal household guard and staff. One of those was his old favourite Tristan.

Now nearly twenty-two, Tristan had grown and filled out his slim frame—he was a handsome young man and that fact hadn’t escaped William’s notice.

Tristan thought it sad that William now left the running of the farms to Mr. Keely, as he had been a good and popular master. Now he preferred to drink and lust after young men, rather than oversee his property and tenants.

Tristan knew why Lord William had wanted to employ him; the Master’s gaze always lingered just that little bit too long when he looked at Tristan—and he remembered back to the night in the private council room. Often Lord William summoned Tristan to his private apartments quite late in the evenings on the pretense of being hungry or thirsty.

Upon being called one night, it was obvious to Tristan the Lord was quite deep in his cups. William grinned at the slim chestnut-haired young man. With his eyes shining with lust he whispered, “You’re a pretty one, Tristan.”

Tristan ignored the compliment and tried to convince William to get into bed and slumber away his drunkenness.

“Ah, Tristan, I will but only if you’ll join me,” William giggled slyly.

Finally, after managing to keep out of his Lordship’s grasp, Tristan got him in bed and agreed to stay and talk. William regaled Tristan with tales of power, the world and of life immortal.

“Immortal, Sir?” Tristan pondered the idea; to live forever without fear of death.

“And would you like to be immortal, my sweet Tristan?” William raised himself to one elbow as he searched Tristan’s face.

“Aye Sir, and who wouldn’t?”

“I can make it happen, Tristan. It is a slow and painful process but it can be done.” Lord William beckoned Tristan closer. As William whispered Tristan’s face slowly changed, it twisted in horror, filled with disbelief and fear. He tore himself away, jumped to his feet and ran from the room.

Lord William lay back and shouted, “You’ll change your mind, my sweet one. You’ll be back.”

And it was as William had predicted. Try as he might, Tristan had been unable to stay away for long. The offer of life everlasting had been too great a gift to give up.

On the fateful night, one of William’s minions bound Tristan to an altar. William took a keen-edged dagger and cut Tristan’s left wrist. Tristan’s lifeblood drained from him, filling a golden ewer and leaving the boy so near death his heart barely beat in his chest.

Lord William mixed his own immortal essence with Tristan’s cooling and clotting blood. William’s servants took the blended blood and mixed it with milk and fed it slowly back into the almost-dead boy. After several hours Tristan was able to sit up. William’s helpers nursed Tristan for several days, feeding him the milky blood until he was strong. William then taught Tristan how to hunt. William told Tristan that although human blood was preferred, animal blood was an acceptable sustenance.

“There are many myths about us, my boy. Silly things, like we are evil, or we can’t enter homes uninvited. Foolish really. I can open any door and go anywhere.”

One night when they’d returned home, they walked together through the empty corridors of the castle, their whispered words and boots on the cool stone the only sounds. Tristan walked his Master to his chambers and on this night William asked him in.

“Tristan, join me. I wish to talk and have some cognac.” William waited for Tristan to nod and push open the great wooden door.

After helping Lord William with his cloak and boots, Tristan poured a generous measure of cognac for them both and handed a glass to William, who reclined on the bed. Williams watched his handsome young companion.

“Tris, you are beautiful.”

Lowering his eyes, a ghost of a smile flitted over Tristan’s lips. “Master, you honour me.”

“Nonsense, it’s the truth. Come sit here beside me.”

Tristan removed his boots and coat and sat as he’d been invited. William ran a cool white hand down his thigh, with his other he pulled Tristan’s head to his until their lips met. Tristan groped for the table and put his glass there as he returned William’s kisses.

William unbuttoned Tristan’s soft lawn shirt, and kissing the skin he revealed as he did. He continued as Tristan’s moans excited him. Finally, with them both without clothes, William said, “I’ll show you how men love men, Tris … come here.”

Tristan lay beneath William, knowing this was how it was always meant to be. How he had always wanted it to be—William loved him, desired and now owned him body and soul.

In the morning William’s groomsman entered the bedchamber and found the pair entwined. He drew the blackout curtains and left them to their slumber for the day.

Tristan remained with Lord William as his lover and companion for several years before choosing to move on and explore the world.

“Boy, tell me.” William sat on a leather chair, one leg thrown over the arm, the ever-present snifter in his hand. He’d noticed his lover’s restlessness for some time, but decided now to address it. “You want to leave me, do you not?”

Tristan knelt before his Master. “Want? No … not want. Must, William, as you yourself have travelled. I’ve lived here all of my life and now I’m immortal. I want to see the world; see what it holds. I want to live a lifetime, no several lifetimes, out there. Come with me, William.”

William reached for his lover and pulled him close. “I’ve had my time, my sweet boy. I shall remain here.” William kissed Tristan hard. “Show me your love then, boy.”

Tristan, unbuckled his master’s belt and unbuttoned his trousers and freed his manhood. As his fist ran over the hardening shaft, he was held in William’s gaze and then he smiled and dipped his head and drew the cool, hard flesh into his mouth.

On the night he was to leave Tristan hunted with William for the last time. A full moon loomed low in the night sky and washed the countryside with its eerie glow; lighting their way. They rode matching blacks that danced and fought their bits. The horses rolled their blood red eyes as they moved onward, up the rising path.

After their successful hunt, William pulled Tristan to him roughly and held him there. He slowly bent until his full lips were a hairsbreadth from Tristan’s, his cool breath drying the blood that remained his prodigy’s lips. Tristan’s arms slipped about his Master and he gripped William’s coat with his fists to hang on. He moaned when William’s lips settled on his own.

William moved his lips to Tristan’s neck and he licked the cool soft skin. “You are mine, boy. Show me!”

“Master.” Tristan whispered, and he moved his head to expose his neck fully.

“Oh, my sweet precious boy.” William stroked Tristian’s neck with a long finger. “You belong to me, don’t you?”

Tristan whispered yes. William stroked Tristan’s hair. “I love you, Tris. You will return to me, when I will it. We will remain together then until the end of days.”

Then, as he held his fractious stallion, William watched Tristan ride alone into his young man’s future. He was a young vampire; he wanted to explore and experience all the world had to offer.

But Lord William, the Sixth Lord of Elmet—would be waiting.

End of Part One