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    AntonEckhoff
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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Twin Passions - 3. Chapter 3

(Part I: 1397)

Robert had learned to read and write from his tutor, Luke. Luke was forward thinking and progressive. After graduating from Oxford, he came to Auen Castle to teach the boys maths and the other things that they, particularly Roland, would need to know. It was more than doctrine, it was knowledge that he instilled in the boys, and it was because of Luke that Roland had a command of politics, thought and rhetoric. Luke taught them what it meant to be inquisitive and to think for themselves. But, as progressive and forward thinking as Luke was, he still taught the boys to read and write in the usual way: by rote memorisation.

 

Sitting in his usual spot in the Great Hall, Robert imagined his hand writing, in its clumsy scrawl, the definitions of the word 'doom'. It had five meanings as a noun and two as a verb. In his mind, Robert pictured his hand holding a quill, and the black ink that scratched into the vellum also left an indelible mark in his mind. He would never forget the meanings of the word.

 

DoomNoun: (1) Judgement Day; (2) A statute, ordinance or law; (3) A decision or judgement, especially an official condemnation to a severe penalty; (4) Fate, usually a tragic or ruinous one; (5) Inevitable destruction or ruin.

 

Doom – Verb: (1) To condemn to ruination or death; (2) To destine to an unhappy end.

 

In addition to writing out definitions, Luke asked the boys to provide an example of the word in use. Robert couldn't remember what he had written at the time he learned the word; but if Luke asked him to do it today, he would have written: 'Earl Ralph doomed Robbie to his doom'.

 

The light from the fire flickered in Robert's eyes as he tried to maintain his tenuous grasp on reality. With only a few words, his life changed. At the time, when he and his brother were in Earl Ralph's room, he hadn't been able to form coherent sentences; looking back on it, he didn't know if he even had real thoughts in his head. He understood the words his father said, he felt their meaning, but he didn't process them like he would in a conversation. He had simply interpreted his feelings in response to them, and that was how he had gleaned his doom.

 

In some ways, his life was neither better nor worse. He had never planned to contest Roland's inheritance, in fact, he had never really given his future much thought. He had always assumed he would be cared and provided for; and living in a monastery wouldn't be much different from living in Auen Castle. What he would miss were his friends. Monks didn't have friends, they were not meant to have physical contact with each other, not meant to hug or touch each other on the shoulder, and conversations with women were frowned upon, if not outright forbidden.

 

That was what he feared the most, losing contact with his friends. He took some comfort in knowing Rollo would be there with him, but whist it comforted him, it also caused a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

 

Roland, the Viscount of Pomona, was losing everything. Rollo never said anything; but Robert could see it in his eyes, and he could hardly stand the thought. There was something missing from his brother, like a piece of his soul, the core of his being, was ripped out of him. On the surface, Robert's life wouldn't change much, but the difference for Roland was immeasurable.

 

With a thud and a creak, Roland threw himself into the wood chair opposite Robert.

 

'You've missed a good match,' Roland said.

 

'I wasn't feeling like a game,' Robert replied.

 

'We are playing again at lunch, you need be play … ' Jack said letting the sentence hang in the air; he only just managed to stop himself from saying: 'one last time’.

 

'You can take my spot,' Roland said, 'I'm not up for another game anyway and we will need to keep the sides even.'

 

'Well, if I am taking your spot, then it will hardly keep the sides even. I would hate to give your team an unfair advantage.'

Roland laughed, 'I set myself up for that one.'

 

'Yeah,' Robert teased, 'low-hanging fruit is the easiest to pick.'

 

'Fruit aside; I want you on my side, especially if Roland isn't playing. Besides,' Jack added in a lower voice, 'I am going to miss you.'

 

Robert saw the sadness in Jack's face, Robert was going to miss Jack too; probably more than Jack realised.

 

'Do you suppose we will still be able to see each other after you two leave?' Jack asked.

 

'Of course we will,' Robert said reassuringly, 'don't be daft. I am still my father's son – even if I am to be a monk. And you will be living in my father's home. We will see each other. Tell the other squires that I'll replace my brother in the afternoon's rematch. And that we are going to win.'

 

'Cheers, Robert,' Jack said and walked off with a bounce in his step.

 

'I just lied to him, didn't I?' Robert said in a hushed voice.

 

'Yes,' Roland said, 'but it was the nice thing to do.'

* * *

Roland remained by the fire after Robert and the squires left to play shinty. His righteous anger had given way to indignation and his indignation had eventually dissolved into nothingness. He felt hollow, devoid of any emotions. It was a strange thing to feel nothing.

 

He had resigned himself to his fate, he didn't really have much choice in the matter, but he had never expected the anger that had initially filled his head to slip away; leaving him to wallow not in the filth of self-pity, but in a dark pit of nothingness.

 

'Would you mind if I sat here,' the silky-smooth voice inquired.

 

'You can do anything you want, Thomas,' Roland replied.

 

With a polite smile, Thomas Langley slithered into the chair usually occupied by Robert. Roland didn't look at Thomas, which was just as well for Thomas, who thought there was something unnerving in the boy's glare. It was like his blue eyes could see through a person, could look into their mind and see their thoughts. It was ludicrous, but Roland's look rattled Thomas, a man who could look kings and princes unflinchingly in their eyes.

 

'Your father has asked me to look after you and your brother at York.'

 

'I assumed as much,' Roland said.

 

'I'll do that, of course, but might I suggest you not be so bleak about the arrangement. You shouldn't see it as the end of your life, but as the beginning of a new one. Jesus' mortal life ended one day; but he rose again as God. Just because one life ends does not mean the next will not be better.'

 

'I would prefer not to have you discuss theology with me, if you don't mind, Dean Thomas. Perhaps when you are enthroned at York, you will be in a better position to discuss such matters with me. If the Pope does not see you worthy to be a man of God, than who am I to disagree?' Roland said acerbically.

 

Thomas, ever in command of his emotions, pressed on, 'of course you are right, Roland. But I wish you were not so fast to dismiss me and my friendship. If you are right in saying that I am not a man of God; then who do you suppose I am?'

 

For the first time, Roland pulled his eyes away from the fire and cast his piercing gaze upon Thomas's face. 'You are a counsellor and advisor to the king, or any man who can afford to pay for your guidance. You are a politician.' His tone was matter-of-fact and measured.

 

'And, if you do not mind my asking, what would you have aspired to become if you remained here and became Earl of Claremont?'

Roland said nothing; but his taught lips conceded the point to Thomas.

 

'Perhaps it is time you began to think about your future and instead of begrudging me; you look to see how I can help you become the man you want to be. “For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.” Thank about how working in His Church can help you to achieve what you wish to in this life. The humblest archbishop can do more for the people than the mightiest earl. I'll help you, Roland, if you will let me.'

* * *

With his great burden on his shoulders, it was hard for Robert to walk up the stairs that lead to Earl Ralph's antechamber. After the match with the squires, Robert had walked around in the forest that lay beyond Auen's walls. He had a lot to think about; but had finally come to a decision: he couldn't see his brother lose his dream. Roland was a good person, who would grow-up to be a kind and generous Earl. It was wrong for him to be disinherited, Robert thought. At the day's end, Robert's life would not be much different if he went into the church – but it was not right for Roland to do the same, it ought not be Roland's doom; but Robert's and his alone. Of course, he would miss his brother, and each step up the worn stone stairs eroded a bit of his resolve; but he knew it was the right thing to do.

 

Sir Charles had arranged for Robert to have an audience with his father and Robert thought he would collapse from the pressure when he pushed upon the heavy wooden door. His father was standing by the fire staring up at the blue tapestry; seemingly oblivious to Robert's entry. Ralph was in his own world, shut-away in his dark room with his cold stone walls which, despite the roaring and cracking fire, were freezing to touch.

 

'You shouldn’t send Roland to York,' Robert said, wasting no time and giving himself no chance to altar his course.

 

'I've made my decision, Robbie.'

 

'I know,' Robert said with a new-found courage, 'but you could send me alone. Disinherit me and there will be no one to contest Rollo. I will go to York and he can remain here.'

 

'Would you really be willing to go to York by yourself?' A strange look came across Ralph's face; it wasn't shock or surprise, it was sympathy. He moved closer to Robert, his long legs carrying him in great strides across the small room.

 

'Yes,' Robert said, taken aback by his own confidence.

 

'That is an elegant and simple solution,' Earl Ralph was now standing directly in front of his son seeming to suppress his smile, 'what makes you think I hadn't already thought of it?'

 

Robert was taken aback. This was not a question he had anticipated. He had played this scene over and over in his read, rehearsing what he would say and what he expected his father to reply. Robert was prepared for any eventuality; but he had not foreseen this scenario and this question and was caught completely unawares.

 

'I don't know,' Robert said.

 

'Of course it would have been much simpler to send you away. It wouldn't have been any less difficult for me; but it would have been the more conventional action to have taken. Unfortunately, it did not prove possible.'

 

Robert began to feel as he had the first time he was told me was leaving Auen Castle. His face went cold and he couldn't feel his body. He wasn't sure how he managed to continue to stand. The world was upside down and he wasn't hearing his father's words; but just feeling their impact.

 

'Why,' he managed to say. It wasn't a question, but a statement.

 

'I approached Roland with the idea of sending you to York alone so as to assure that he would not have any issues when taking the Earldom; but he refused to accept it. He said that if I disinherited you, that he would emancipate himself from me.'

 

'But there would be no one to contest his earldom if I became a monk.'

 

'He said that he does not want you to go to the Church alone; either both or neither of you will leave for York. He quoted 1 John 3:16 and that was the end of our discussion.'

 

'“This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers,”' Robert recited, more to himself than to his father.

Copyright © 2011 AntonEckhoff; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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