Lover Boys Forever (16 page)

“
I would like that. I believe I’m feeling quite well even now, although I am growing a little sleepy. It must be the wine.”

Ricardo rose and offered Matthew a hand.
“Come then, I will make sure you can negotiate the stairs to your chamber.”

Matthew offered his quirky smile as he
, too, stood and took the Duke’s hand. There was a moment where they locked eyes as their hands clasped, but both looked away quickly. Still, neither made a move to release that firm handclasp until Matthew was inside his tower room and seated on his bed.

“
Good night, friend. Sleep well,” Ricardo murmured as he took his leave.

“
You as well. And thank you,” Matthew called out.

Ricardo was reluctant to leave him on his own, but could think of no rational excuse to remain. On his way to his own chambers
, he almost turned around and went back to offer Matthew a place on the floor beside his hearth. But that seemed foolishly overprotective, and he decided against it.

He awoke to his servant
’s hand on his shoulder. “Master. The stranger is possessed. He is crying out in tongues. The devil has taken hold of him!”

“
Hush, Mahmet. I will come. Give me my robe!”

Regardless of his admonition to the quaking Arab servant, Ricardo experienced a small shudder of dread as he contemplated the possibility of Satan in his Keep, or of a demon possessing his sweet guest who was alone and defenseless in his tower room.

Yet he did not hesitate as he raced up stairs and across corridors to reach Matthew in his apparent distress. He found the youth tossing and turning in his bed and crying out. He was not alone at least. A servant girl, the Italian Teresa, stood nearby wringing her hands and afraid to approach.

“
He is speaking English. There is no demon here. Leave us.”

Ricardo stepped up to the bed and immediately reached out to the writhing youth. The moment his hand settled on Matthew
’s arm, the red-head ceased his tossing and came awake. He sat up abruptly and let out a huge groan.

“
Ricardo! I’m back here! I was dreaming I was in Los Angeles in a hospital room. Someone was beside me holding my hand. I couldn’t see him even though I tried so hard.”

The young Duke was somewhat confused by Matthew
’s statement. He had no idea where Los Angeles was, but wondered if he was speaking of the angels, or if the place he called a hospital was an abbey of The Hospitallers, the order of Knights who tended to the sick and infirm.

“
Come. I think it best you sleep in my chambers. It will save me the effort of running back and forth in the middle of the night.”

It seemed it was the perfect thing to say. Matthew offered no resistance or made no complaint as he rose to follow the Duke to his rooms. Ricardo
’s servants quickly, and nervously, made up a pallet with blankets beside the hearth and only a half dozen yards from their Master’s bed.

Matthew went right to sleep without a word. Ricardo remained awake for a short time gazing at the red
-head on his pallet by the light of the flickering fire. He wished sorely to bring the young man into his bed and wrap his arms around him to protect him from those disturbing dreams. He fell asleep imagining that tender scenario.

He awoke to sunlight flooding the room from the windows in the eastern wall that faced the sea. Matthew was up and adding some faggots to the fire.
“You are awake. Did you sleep well? I didn’t hear you ... calling out or anything.”

Matthew turned to face Ricardo. He nodded and smiled briefly.
“I slept soundly. Perhaps your room is enchanted. Thank you. I am a nuisance, I think.”

“
Nonsense! I really am glad you are here, regardless of the mystery you offer. Shall we ask the servants to bring us a meal?”

They ate in the room, a fine repast of boiled eggs and warm crusty bread with slices of cooked ham.
Nothing was said of the night before. When a servant came to clear away the remains of their breakfast, Ricardo commanded him to fetch the lyre Matthew had been playing the previous evening.

“
I would have you play again. In payment for all the disturbance you bring to my otherwise placid prison.”

Matthew cocked his head and gave Ricardo a curious look, but chose not to question his odd statement. The young Duke had said nothing of his own circumstances. Matthew had enough to worry about.

The young red-head sat on a stool in the far corner beneath the open window in the warmth of the morning sun and took up the instrument when it arrived. He began to play with a subdued focus. It was magical. Ricardo was reminded of a bard he had once heard at King Roger’s Court who hailed from the wild hinterlands of Scotland in the British Isles. It was lively but poignant, mysterious and rich with the beat of the sea and the winds.

He was pulled from contemplating the lovely youth and his entrancing music by the arrival of the Keep
’s Castellan. This was expected as the Master-at-Arms regularly reported to the Duke at this time.

Abdul, made his report with quiet solemnity. Erect and lean in his flowing robe of navy blue and emerald, his piercing olive eyes gazed out from under ink
-black brows above a hawk nose that swooped down to thin lips and a wide mouth. A dark headdress hid his hair. He looked altogether terrifying to the watching Matthew.

“
I have news from Palermo. Your uncle once again commands you to remain here at the Keep. He believes that once the current campaigns in southern Italy have come to some conclusion, either for or against King Roger, it may be safe enough for your return to the capital. Perhaps in the autumn, Lord.”

“
Ah, perhaps in the autumn. Last autumn, Uncle promised I would be welcome back in the spring, and it is now spring. Come, Abdul, what is the truth of it? You have received messages from others not so cozy with Uncle. I would know it all.”

Abdul turned his fierce but contained gaze upon Matthew. The young red
-head gazed back at him directly while continuing to play.

“
Your young friend. Would it be better if he was not bothered with such matters?”

On the spur of the moment, Ricardo made a decision contrary to his previous reasoning.
“No. It would be better if he was bothered with such matters. I would seek his advice as well as yours.”

“
Are you certain, Lord? He is a stranger here. His story of memory loss is far from plausible, and he has the look of a Norman about him. He could be a spy sent by enemies of your family. Comely and congenial, one could easily be taken in by his seeming innocence.”

Matthew rose, his freckled complexion flushed.
“I am no liar, Master Abdul, but I understand your concern and have no quarrel with it. I’ll leave.”

Ricardo raised both hands, one toward each of the two men.
“Truce, please. I, too, understand your concerns, Abdul. But I trust Matthew. As I trust you. Please continue. And Matthew, please remain.”

Abdul bowed to his Lord, then turned and bowed to Matthew. It was an unequivocal statement of absolute obedience. He continued speaking.
“Lord, I have heard that your uncle, Prince Donaldo of Salerno, and your cousin Count Silvestri of Melfi are secretly conspiring against King Roger. Your Uncle Pietro in Palermo attempts to straddle both horses until he senses a clear winner of this race. Lord Pietro simply does not trust you in Palermo where you might also hear these rumors and perhaps impetuously decide to choose the King over family. He truly does feel you to be safer here at the Keep, but also sees himself as safer without you in Palermo at Court.”

“
Just so. Thank you for your honesty as usual. You may go.”

The tall Moor bowed and departed without another word. Ricardo paced the room with his hands behind his back in quiet contemplation while Matthew took up the lyre again. Finally, he paused before the seated red
-head. “What do you think, my friend?”

“
More important, I would assume, what do you want?”

Ricardo bust out laughing, then lay a hand on the red
-head’s shoulder and answered. “Want? I was the son of a duke before I was a duke. All my life I was offered whatever I wanted. Fine food, fine horses, fine books, fine whores if I’d been so inclined. But all these things were of the same sort, material and ephemeral. I was never asked what I wanted to do with my life. Now, it seems you are asking me this. And I suppose I should have an answer, yet I fear I do not. Not now, not yet.”

“
Give it some time, Ricardo. Should we ride today? I’m eager to try it. Hopefully I won’t look the fool.”

Ricardo had to wonder. Had Matthew never ridden a horse? Stranger and stranger.

It was clear this was the case when they were in the stables on the ground floor of the Keep and confronted with the time to mount their steeds. Laughing, Matthew had to ask for direction, which Ricardo gladly offered. It was all very novel and great fun as the young Duke became the instructor to his naïve guest.

He chose the gentlest of his geldings for the novice rider
, which certainly helped prevent any disasters. The horse was utterly placid and followed Ricardo’s more boisterous mare with no quarrel. All Matthew had to do was maintain his seat in the saddle.

He did that surprisingly well after the first few minutes of awkwardness. Looking back at the red
-head, Ricardo noted how he observed and then mimicked the Duke’s own movements and manners. Even if he had never mounted a horse before, he was undoubtedly an experienced athlete of some sort. Guessing this to be the case, Ricardo decided to further test his new friend’s mysterious abilities.

“
How about some swordplay? Would this also be a practice you have never enjoyed?”

They had just ridden up the slope of a small knoll overlooking the sea. The morning was cool yet with the dew of a chilly spring night still moistening the grass in the shadier spots. There was no breeze to speak of and only a few birds chirped in the bushes. It was very quiet.

“What is this place? What are these ruins?”

Matthew gazed about in wonder as he took in their surroundings, too much in awe of the deserted majesty of the place to respond to Ricardo
’s joking challenge. It was a ruin of some sort, obviously. Tall columns marched in a pair of broken rows on either side of them while a number of other columns were scattered around the area in jumbled disarray. It looked as if it had once been some kind of Greek temple or palace.

“
I have been told that more than fifteen hundred years ago, the Greeks themselves built this temple when they settled Sicily. Since then, the Romans came and conquered, then the Byzantines who were themselves somewhat Greek, then the Muslim Arabs, and now the Normans, and we Italians. Isn’t it inspiring to see the handiwork of the ancients, even in this tumbled down state?”

Matthew
’s look changed from awe to puzzled confusion. “Fifteen hundred years ago. How strange. I feel somehow as if those centuries are nothing but moments. Another thousand years from now, where will I be?”

Recognizing the anguish beneath the murmured words, Ricardo chose then to repeat his earlier challenge.
“Come, Matthew. Let’s dismount. I’m eager to test your fighting skills.”

Ricardo had moved up close so that their horses were side
-by-side. As he spoke he reached out and placed a hand on Matthew’s shoulder. The moment he touched him, the red-head seemed to come out of his inward withdrawal.

“
Yes. Why not? I wondered why you burdened me with this scabbard when we dressed this morning.”

Ricardo had actually enjoyed dressing his guest before they set out earlier. He offered him clothes from his own closet, breeches, tunic, boots and cloak, and yes a sword belt with scabbard and weapon. This was how he himself would dress when preparing for a ride outside the safety of the Keep
, and it seemed proper to also dress Matthew in that manner.

They dismounted and tethered their horses to one of the remaining upright columns before Ricardo began to teach his young guest the art of swordplay. Removing their cloaks, they squared off in tunic and breeches under the bright morning sun in the midst of the tumbled Greek ruins.

It was enjoyable and mysteriously intriguing for both young men. Matthew’s first efforts were laughable and neither minded making a joke of it. But the red-head’s enthusiasm quickly made up for his awkwardness. Before long, they were leaping and hopping about from grassy field to atop fallen columns and back again. Again, it was obvious to Ricardo that Matthew was an experienced athlete, quite light on his feet and accustomed to agile leaps and bounds. It was almost as if he was a trained dancer or tumbler.

He was also reckless. Their swords clanged loudly as they chased one another about the ruins, laughing and shouting dares. It was up to Ricardo to prevent any injury, which was a challenge with the wild fervor of his inexperienced partner to contend with.

Matthew halted in his leaping enthusiasm only long enough to tear off his tunic and thus go shirt-less in the Sicilian sunshine. Ricardo followed suit. Now the pair showed off their differing body types as the slim and lean red-head battled the husky and powerful Duke.