Deeds of Their Past - 10. Chapter Ten

A knocking sound woke Nathan with a start. His head ached something awful, and it took a moment to recall where he was. Bright sunlight streamed through the window, and while he couldn’t be sure, he assumed it was late morning.

The sound of knocking came again. His ears rang and he winced in pain. Slowly turning out of bed, he sat, planting his feet on the rough floor. Massaging his temples helped ease the pain, if only temporarily.

Knocking again, more insistent this time, but he still couldn’t figure out the source. He managed to lift himself up, and shuffled into the hallway.

Knocking. Louder now. Stumbling into the main room, he opened the front door. Light blinded him and he shielded his eyes from the rays.

“You’re awake,” Brohm said.

“No thanks to you.” Nathan was unable to recognize his own voice. It was deep and gravelly.

“Oh, sorry.”

Peeking through his fingers, Nathan saw him with hammer in hand, fixing the step off the veranda.

The big man chuckled. “Don’t handle your booze so well, yuh?”

“You’ve got the size advantage. More of you to soak it up.”

“I reckon so.”

Nathan’s attempt to swallow felt like sand scraping down his throat. “Water . . .”

“You go inside. I’ll get you some.”

Nathan nodded, and stumbled to the table, laying his head down. A few moments later, Brohm walked in with a dripping bucket. Retrieving a glass from the shelf, he dipped it in and handed it to Nathan.

“Drink up,” he said, nudging his shoulder.

Nathan quickly emptied it, unable to recall the last time he was so thirsty. Brohm filled it again, passing it back to him.

“How’s the arm?” Nathan asked, noticing he’d removed the bandage.

“Fine. It’s healing already.”

Nathan took a closer look and was happy to see there was no infection. After eating bread and drinking plenty of water, Nathan gradually started to feel better. While recovering, Brohm continued working outside, washing the windows with an old rag. Nathan wanted to help, but the big man insisted he go back to bed.

“There’s lots of work to be done, and I reckon you’ll get your fair share once you’re feeling better,” he said with a sly grin.

Nathan accepted that, shuffling back into his room and flopped into bed, falling asleep in moments.

* * *

“Nathan,” a gentle voice called to him.

It was dark and he rubbed his eyes. Looking over, he found Brohm’s face in deep shadow, lit by lamp light.

“How’re you feeling?”

Nathan was confused. It seemed he lay down just moments ago. He felt groggy, but his headache was gone. “Better, I think.”

“You hungry?”

Nathan took a moment to ponder his question. “I think so.”

“I went out to the fields later in the day. Found wild carrots and potatoes growing out there. Can you believe it?” he said excitedly.

Nathan grunted, unable to join in his enthusiasm.

“Anyway, I made soup with them. I reckon you might be up to trying it.”

“Sure.”

Brohm grabbed the lamp and led Nathan to the main room, revealing a set table with two bowls and spoons. “I’ll warn you now. I’m no cook,” he said, stirring the contents of a pot with a ladle.

Nathan sat down, touched that he went through the effort. “Don’t sell yourself short. Let’s try it first before making judgement.”

Brohm filled the two bowls with watery soup containing chunks of vegetables, and sat down at the table. Nathan looked on as he experimentally ate a spoonful, and his face immediately turned foul.

“That good, huh?” Nathan said, cringing.

“If I had more ingredients, the soup part would’ve been better. All I had was salt.”

Nathan tried it. The soup was essentially brine. He couldn’t help but laugh, and Brohm joined him.

“I told you I’m no cook.”

Bypassing the salty water, they ate the vegetables instead. By that point, Nathan realized he was hungry, and helped himself to a second serving.

“Thanks Brohm. You may not be able to make soup to save your life, but I appreciate you trying.”

Brohm’s face flushed and he scratched the back of his head. “You looked awful green this morning. I just wanted to help you feel better.”

“I do. I’m sure by morning I’ll be back to normal.”

Silence fell between them. Their eyes met, and Nathan saw something profound in Brohm’s gaze, though he questioned whether his infatuation with the big guy was colouring his perceptions. Not knowing how to share his feelings without making an uncomfortable situation, he tore himself from his gaze and stood up.

“What’s wrong?” Brohm asked with concern.

Before attempting an answer, a sudden clatter of raindrops on the roof interrupted his thoughts. After the relative silence of their surroundings, the racket was nearly deafening. Brohm stared at the ceiling as though expecting leaks to appear. Nathan used the opportunity to stow his emotions, telling himself Brohm was a friend and nothing more. After the initial rush, the rain reduced to a soft patter, and satisfied to see no leaks forming, Brohm turned his attention back to him.

“So what’s wrong?” he asked again.

“Nothing.”

“You sure? It seemed like you wanted to say something.”

“I . . . I’m just tired,” he lied.

Brohm yawned, seemingly content with the answer. “Yuh, good call. It’s been a long day. I think I’m gonna bunk it.”

He grabbed one of the lit lamps and proceeded down the hallway to his bedroom.

“Thanks again, Brohm.”

“Night,” he called out.

“Goodnight.”

Nathan extinguished the second lamp, and took the last one with him into his room. Sitting on the bed, he drew a deep breath. Try as he might, he couldn’t get Brohm out of his thoughts. He snuffed the flame, and lay back, staring into the blackness of the room.

While listening to the rain, ghostly afterimages danced across his field of view. At first they were just shapes, but soon coalesced to a man’s face. Details emerged, but it wasn’t a face Nathan recognized.

Slow yet steady, the face began to distort. A sickly grin revealing elongated sharp teeth. Its eyes became beady and sunken in. The face gave way to acute, daemonic features. Heavy breathing filled his ears, followed by a ragged laugh, low and menacing.

“Come now. I’m waiting for you,” it growled.

Nathan choked with panic. He shut his eyes, but the hellish visage remained, filling his vision as it hovered closer. He bolted up from the bed to escape, and the face suddenly disappeared.

He found himself in a cold sweat, panting heavily. It didn’t feel like a dream, but it had to be. He shivered at the memory of the face burned in his mind.

Reluctantly, he lay down again and all remained still. The continuing rain soothed his nerves, yet sleep still eluded him. He knew it was going to be a long night.

* * *

Nathan woke from his uneasy slumber when he heard Brohm step into the main room. The rain had subsided some time during the night, and now the sun was rising, colouring the clouds with vivid shades of red and purple. Even now, Nathan felt haunted by the remnant memory of the face, but hearing Brohm walking about dulled his fears. Knowing that it was unlikely he’d fall back to sleep, Nathan decided to get up and join him.

“What happened? You look awful,” Brohm said.

“Do I?” Nathan asked, rubbing his face. “Yeah, bad dreams.”

“Again? You seem plagued by them. Is that normal for you?”

“No. I wish I knew why I was having them.”

After a simple breakfast, they started cleaning the house in earnest. Nathan swept dirt and dust outside while Brohm pulled the sheets from the bed.

“They’re kind of musty,” he said, dragging an old washtub. “I reckon I’ll give them a good scrub.”

While Brohm worked outside, Nathan finished cleaning the inside windows, surprised by how much light it brought into the room. Peeking through, he spied Brohm bent over the tub, scrubbing a sheet on a washboard. He’d removed his shirt again and his skin sheened with sweat, steaming in the chilly early-morning air. Nathan enjoyed the view from his unnoticed vantage point for a while longer before returning to work.

Later that morning, while Nathan was stowing apples he’d picked, Brohm stepped in wearing nothing but his breeches. Turning at the sight, Nathan nearly tripped over his own feet. While his breeches were loose fitting, a considerable bulge didn’t leave much to the imagination.

“Okay, off with your clothes,” Brohm demanded.

Nathan laughed nervously at the ridiculousness of his request. “Excuse me? Did I miss something?”

“My clothes needed a good scrub, and I’d say yours are due too.”

“Well, uhh . . .” Nathan gibbered.

“Off with them, stinky,” Brohm said with a grin and stepped outside.

“Okay okay, I can take a hint,” Nathan called out, laughing.

While stripping down to his loincloth, he couldn’t help not be aroused by Brohm’s sudden nakedness and forward nature. Stepping barefoot through the tall grass, he’d found the day had warmed up considerably. Brohm had tied a length of rope between two trees to hang the sheets and his clothing, left to billow in the fresh breeze. Nathan stood before him, trying lamely to hide his arousal. Aside from a quick glance, the big man didn’t offer any comment.

Dumping his doublet, shirt and trousers into the water, Nathan dropped to his knees and got to work. Meanwhile, Brohm pulled more water from the well and dumped it on himself. With wet hands, he scrubbed at his body, washing the sweat from his skin.

“I’m done. You’re next,” Brohm said, sloshing the bucket of water.

Nathan turned from with his work to look over. The soaked breeches now hugged his body, practically see-through. Nathan tried his hardest to stare up at Brohm’s face while he spoke.

“Don’t even think it. That cold water would likely stop my heart from shock.”

“You’ll be fine,” Brohm said nonchalantly.

“Don’t be so sure. I don’t have a protective layer shielding me from the cold like you do.”

Brohm paused a moment, his face turning dark. “Are you calling me . . . fat?”

Nathan couldn’t tell if he was serious or joking, and tried his best to backpedal without hurting his feelings.

“Well, uh, you’ve got some fat over that muscular frame of yours. It’s not a bad thing,” he said nervously while Brohm loomed over him.

Without hesitation, he dumped the water over Nathan. He gasped for breath from the sudden jolt and fell over onto the ground. Brohm burst into laughter and quickly pulled up another bucketful before Nathan could fully recover.

“Of course I’m fat,” Brohm said with a grin, slapping his belly. “And now, you’re much cleaner.”

He poured more water over Nathan’s prone body. It wasn’t nearly as bad the second time, but he couldn’t stop from shaking.

“Gods, that’s c-cold.”

Brohm laughed and offered a hand, easily pulling Nathan to his feet. With a friendly slap on the back, Brohm lumbered off toward the apple tree while Nathan looked on. Glancing down at his clothes soaking in the water, he decided they were clean enough, and hung them with the other laundry drying in the sun.

He found Brohm leaning against the tree, eating an apple while staring out at the neglected fields. Until their clothes were dry, work would have to wait, so he lazily strolled the grounds. The warm sun felt good against his chilled skin, and the long grass tickled his exposed legs as it swayed in the breeze. Distant birds sung cheerfully. He couldn’t help but smile.

Yawning, he lay down in the grass and gazed up at the blue sky, dotted with small fluffy clouds. Heavy footsteps crunched in the grass, and Brohm’s large frame came into view overhead.

“Comfortable?” he asked.

“Yeah. Care to join?”

“Sure.”

He lay down beside Nathan, hands behind his head. “I could get used to this,” he drawled.

Nathan grunted softly in agreement. Silence fell between them, and in his relaxed state felt himself falling into sleep.

“So, I’ve been thinking,” Brohm said, causing Nathan to jerk awake. “As nice as this is, I don’t know if staying here’s a good idea.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“I’m worried we’ll be found.”

“Brohm, this place is in the middle of nowhere. We’ll lay low for a while until things cool down, and then poke our heads out to see what’s going on. Okay?”

“I guess.” The big man didn’t sound convinced.

Nathan sat up and looked over at his mostly naked friend, feeling a stir in his loins again. “You know, for a guy who can clearly take care of himself, you sure worry a lot.”

Brohm simply shrugged. Nathan resisted the urge to hug him in a veiled attempt to ease his fears. Instead, he opted to give his shoulder a friendly squeeze. Brohm lifted himself up on his elbows, eyes resting on Nathan’s crotch for a moment before offering him a droll grin. Nathan glanced down, embarrassed to see his manhood continuing to betray his thoughts.

“You like what you see,” Brohm said bluntly. It wasn’t a question.

“Brohm, I—”

Nathan cut himself short. It was obvious he knew the truth, and any attempt to say otherwise was pointless. “Yeah, I do.”

Brohm offered his same crooked grin. “I never had a guy say that to me before.”

Nathan swallowed and asked the question he needed to know. “Do you like . . . men?”

“Well, I’ve never been with one, so I wouldn’t know.”

Nathan was confounded. “Either you like men, or you don’t.”

“I reckon it’s not that simple,” Brohm said, shrugging.

Nathan couldn’t comprehend his baffling thought process, and noted he’d managed to skirt the question, but instead of badgering him, he decided to let it go.

“Well, the secret’s out. I like you,” Nathan said. “And I can’t begin to explain how much that scares me.”

“Why?”

“Remember what I said? History repeats itself.”

“What? So, you reckon I’m gonna get killed because you like me?”

Nathan realized how silly it sounded, but nodded anyway.

“Well it doesn’t really matter if they catch us. If they do, we’ll both be dead, or worse.”

Nathan’s heart sunk at the cold reality he painted. “Damn it. Why’d you agree to stick together with me?”

“I told you before. I like you too, l’il buddy.”

To Nathan’s surprise, the big man leaned over and smacked a noisy kiss on his forehead, followed by a playful push that knocked him off balance and sprawled in the grass. Brohm chuckled and rose, leaving Nathan dumbfounded.

His heart raced, filled with giddy excitement, and his skin tingled where his lips had touched him. The kiss almost seemed platonic, or perhaps it was Brohm’s take on being humorous. He decided it was best not to pry for its meaning, but he hoped Brohm would give him a real answer to his question one day soon.

Their clothes dried quickly in the breeze, and they dressed before lunch. He was relieved to be clothed again. Seeing Brohm practically naked for any period of time didn’t help his growing lust for the man. Later that afternoon while pulling sheets from the line, he heard distant hoofbeats coming from the road. Peeking around to investigate, he saw men-at-arms on the horizon.

“Brohm!” he cried, hurrying into the house.

“What’s wrong?”

“I think they’re here.”

Wide-eyed, Brohm rushed to the window. “They’re too close. They’ll see us run and catch us.”

Nathan grabbed the sword belt and scabbard leaning against the wall, tossing it to Brohm, then rifled through his rucksack to find his dagger.

“Gods, there’s at least a dozen of them. We can’t fight them all off,” Brohm said.

“Well I’m not going to just stand here and let them take us. What else are we—”

“Wait! I completely forgot.”

Brohm scrambled across the room to the south-west corner. Jamming his fingers into the space between the floor planks, he lifted to reveal a hidden trapdoor. “Quick! Get in.”

Nathan wasted no time and jumped down into the blackness. It was only a metre deep, forcing him to crawl in. Feeling his way along the earthen wall, he grimaced as spiderwebs coated his face. Looking back, he was alarmed to find Brohm hesitantly peering down into the dark.

“What are you doing? Get in here, quick!”

“I-I’m afraid.”

“I’m right here. Jump down. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Brohm tentatively stepped down and crouched on his haunches, yet he wasn’t low enough to close the trapdoor. Hoofbeats slowed and stopped, and indistinct yelling of men giving orders told them their time was up.

“Brohm, close the door,” Nathan whispered hoarsely.

“I can’t. I can’t do this,” Brohm said, starting to climb out.

Nathan reached out, grabbing his arm and pulled him down to the ground. A solid knock at the front door shook the foundation.

“King’s guard! Open up!” The voice meant business.

Nathan clambered over the big man and shut the trapdoor just as a strong kick bashed the front door open. Nathan lay on Brohm’s prone body to hold him down, covering his mouth with a hand. Three heavily armoured men, visible through the small gaps in the floorboards, rushed in with swords in hand. Two stormed down the hallway, their weighty boots rousing dirt and debris that fell through the cracks. After a moment, they returned.

“Nobody’s here,” one of the men said.

Someone spoke outside, and the lead man glanced out the rear window.

“Stephens found horses out back. They can’t be far.”

The men tromped outside in quick order, and Nathan leaned over to whisper into Brohm’s ear. “You need to get control of yourself.”

Brohm nodded, trying to slow his frantic breathing. Releasing his hold, Nathan manoeuvred to sit with his back to the rough wall, and Brohm crawled up beside him.

“I don’t know how long I can stay down here,” he said, his voice wavering.

“You need to. You just have to fight it—”

Heavy steps on the veranda cut him off. They peeked through the cracks, glimpsing a view of a lone man. Stepping slow and deliberately into the main room, he scanned the area thoroughly. There was a sureness in his gait, and clearly wasn’t a common trooper. The bulky plate armour and impossibly large broadsword belted to his waist added to his stature.

“Where are you maggots hiding?” he asked himself, his voice gruff and raw.

He continued his slow stride, stopping at the table in the centre of the room. Pulling back a chair, he sat, wood creaking under the weight. Nathan glanced over to Brohm, his face dripping with sweat, breathing shallow and quick. He held his hands firmly in an attempt to offer him strength.

A trooper entered the house, snapped to attention, and addressed the sitting man. “Knight-Commander Garricus.”

“Report, lieutenant,” he grumbled, tapping his gauntleted fingers on the table.

“We’ve not found the brigands, and there’s no trail leading from this place”.

The Knight-Commander sighed. “It shouldn’t be this difficult to find two men.”

The lieutenant stood dead still while Garricus thought, his fingers still strumming the table.

“We don’t have time to wait. Gather the troops. We ride south. Dismissed.”

The lieutenant offered a crisp salute, and hurried out the front door. Garricus stood, and glanced about the room one last time before exiting. The squad made a hasty departure, and all was quiet.

With a sudden gasp, Brohm ripped his hands away from Nathan and scrambled to the trap door. Light streamed in, and a glint deeper in the crawlspace caught Nathan’s eye. While Brohm escaped, Nathan investigated the source of the shiny object.

His vision now sensitive in the dark, he discovered wooden crates and leather sacks. The glint was a steel cap-end of a bow, sticking out from one of the open crates. Alongside it was a quiver of arrows. Grabbing both, he climbed out, finding Brohm standing near the exit of the house.

“Look what I found. I think this’ll come in handy,” Nathan said.

Brohm didn’t budge.

“You okay?” Nathan asked.

Brohm turned with clenched fists and a red face. “No, I’m not okay! I nearly got us caught because of . . . that!” he cried, gesturing violently at the trapdoor.

“But we didn’t get caught. It’s okay,” Nathan said quietly in an attempt to pacify the big man.

“Oh sure, except you had to hold me down like a beast. Gods! What good am I to you if I’m afraid of something so stupid?”

“Brohm, calm down.”

He ignored him and stomped out the open front door, spitting curses and kicking at rocks along the path, wandering into the overgrown field.