Conspiracies of Rome Read Free Page A

size. But anything was preferable to what Ethelbert had in mind for me.
        It might have been better if I’d gone on to add an appeal to the whole company: If Ethelbert could do this to a noble’s son, after all, what might he one day do to their sons?
        No time. Ethelbert recovered himself.
        ‘Don’t give me none of that poof talk,’ he screamed, all control gone. He landed a great punch in my stomach.
        He took me by surprise. If I hadn’t been held fast on both sides, I’d have gone down like a fallen roof tile. I slumped into the grasp of his men, gagging and coughing. He aimed a kick at my balls, but missed, his nailed boot opening a gash in my thigh.
        I tried to scream, but only a croak issued. I was numb with terror. This couldn’t be happening. It was surely a nightmare. In a minute, I’d wake in the mission library and go back to thinking how to lay my hands on enough cash to get myself and Edwina across the Channel.
        But I was awake and this was really happening. I was in the absolute power of a filthy barbarian tyrant. I’d seen any number of times what he could do when the mood took him. Now he had me. I could have shat myself, but had nothing in my guts but wind.
        ‘Don’t you dare lecture me like some fucking priest about your fucking so-called rights,’ he continued. ‘You lost your free status when your father tried to fuck me over. That made you nothing. You’re only alive now because I didn’t kill you then.
        ‘By the time I’m done with you, my boy, you’ll wish the sweating sickness had taken you as well as your brothers.’
        There was a blur of motion just out of sight on my left. Then:
        ‘He’ll be lower than me – lower than me!’
        It was the churl who’d lured me into that side street. He reeled into sight, clutching uncontrollably at himself. A copper bracelet shone new from his withered wrist.
        ‘Let me cut his hair off, Lord King. Give me his golden hair.’
        I can’t say if my hair back then was my best point. There’s no doubt, though, it completed me as a vision of loveliness. It was this that had first brought me to Edwin’s attention at those interminable banquets where I’d acted as interpreter between Bishop Lawrence and her father. I’d even turned the heads of quite a few of the priests. ‘ Non Anglus ,’ they used to coo at me as they’d reach up to pat my curls, ‘ sed angelus ’ – ‘not English but an angel.’
        But it had never struck me before that a churl could even notice these things, let alone envy them. His shrill, demented pleading almost took my mind off the greater horrors as I looked at him properly for the first time.
        It was a brief interlude. Ethelbert kicked him out of the way. This was his show, and he wasn’t sharing it with anyone – least of all a churl.
        He stepped right up to me. He embraced me and suddenly kissed me. He forced his slimy tongue deep into my mouth and flickered it against my throat. I could feel his swollen cock throbbing against me through his breeches. I tried to pull away, but was held fast in a grip tighter than iron.
        Ethelbert stepped back, now under control. He gave me another of his exultant grins.
        ‘Hey, Alfred,’ he called over in a light voice. ‘Do you want this little shitbag afterwards to comb your daughter’s hair? He’ll be safe enough then with her. Or do you want him in your fields with the other churls? Do you want him with or without eyes?’
        ‘No, please,’ I whispered.
        But I was lifted bodily and carried towards the ladder over by the far wall. I squirmed and jerked about like a landed fish. But it was to the same lack of effect. I was caught. There were a few laughs and appreciative murmurs as my legs were forced apart and I was tied in place with leather bands.
        ‘Come on, look lively,’ Ethelbert shouted, wheeling round to take in the whole display of his