The Lion of Kent by Aleksandr Voinov

Author:Aleksandr Voinov
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: M/M Historical, Source: Amazon
Publisher: Carina Press
Published: 2010-08-30T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Four

“The boar is of the devil.” Stephen’s high-pitched voice rang out. “A good Christian meets the devil’s minion at danger to his soul.”

William glanced up from his breakfast, forcing the food down even though he wasn’t hungry. He’d awoken much too early and lain awake thinking of—what else?—Sir Robert. His touch. His words. The rare revelation of his master’s thoughts.

He wished with all his heart that he could have been old enough to go on crusade with his lord. But he’d been an untested youth when Sir Robert left, not yet ready for the pursuits of men or warriors. Fighting at his side against the beastly heathens, seeing all the wonders of Constantinople, praying at the sites hallowed with the blood of the Messiah…what a wild and wonderful life, and he’d missed it.

He looked at Sir Robert, who ate calmly in silence, his features betraying nothing as Stephen continued to bray his opinions like a donkey on a village green.

“But youth of course is too busy making cow-eyes at worldly men to see the dangers awaiting their souls. And what dangers they are!”

The murmur in the hall silenced, and William only caught it when John elbowed him in the ribs. He glanced up at the high table and saw Stephen’s stare directed at him.

Shifting uneasily on the bench, William noticed for the first time that Stephen had a stare of similar power as his brother. No wonder the junior king Young Henry had fallen under Stephen’s spell. William blinked. What was the churchman on about? Worldly men? Cow-eyes? He met the stare, unsure how to defend himself. He was destined to be a warrior, a knight, not a priest. Chastising him for it seemed an unjust allegation.

“You should know that men killed by the boar lose their souls,” Stephen said, his hard gaze still on William, who felt a shiver run down his spine. “The boar is a pagan beast, a devil that was worshipped in the dark forests of Germania before the Lord’s missionaries tore it from the darkness.”

“Well, but they are Germans,” Robert said with the hint of a smile. “Baron Albi, what do you think?”

“I’m curious to meet a proper English boar. There is excellent hunting at home—we have sangliers there, fierce black pigs that taste very good. You will have to visit and see if they are to your taste, Robert.” Albi grinned and raised his cup of wine, observing his host over the silver rim. “And you have quite the reputation for lion hunting, I have heard.”

Robert lifted his cup in response, eyes gleaming with humour. “I’ve found the lions of Damascus to be a match for a good English boar. Yet I’ve seen more men killed by boars than lions, and the boar is more dangerous than the lion, for he is the only beast that kills a man with one blow. And where the boar charges blindly in its rage, the lion demands you meet him as an equal, noble encountering noble on his terms, on his lands.

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