Date: Tue, 17 Jul 2001 16:54:28
From: Ganymede
Subject: Ring Around the Rose Chapter 7.

The Ring Around the Rose, by Ganymede


WARNING:

This warning has been revised as a result of a recent complaint
about another Ganymede story. Please read the warning carefully.


This story contains graphic descriptions of sexual acts
between men and MINOR boys. It is not true! The story is not
intended to promote illegal acts against minors. I do not
condone child abuse, however the love of boys is a different
matter. Despite the prevalent attitudes of western society,
men have loved boys throughout recorded history. It is my goal
to help readers appreciate that love can exist between men
and boys. If the subject of man/boy love offends you, if
this material is illegal in your place of residence, or if you
are under the legal age for such material, do not read further!

By downloading and reading this story:

"... you implicitly declare and affirm under penalties of
perjury that you are not a minor or in the company of a
minor and are entitled to have access to material intended
for mature, responsible members of society capable of making
decisions about the content of documents they wish to read...."

Any similarity to individuals, living or dead, is entirely
accidental. The sexual acts described in the story are the
result of my imagination. I have not performed these acts, and
I do not encourage others to perform them with minors.

The story is copyrighted under the pseudonym, Ganymede. A copy
has been placed in the Nifty archives for your enjoyment.
The story cannot be used to derive monetary gain. The story
cannot be placed in archives that require payment for access, or
printed and distributed in any form that requires payment either
directly or indirectly.


THE COPYRIGHT OF OTHERS:

Throughout the story there are poems and songs by others. I do
not claim this work as my own. These poems and songs are included
within single quotation marks. In some cases, I have modified the
original to suit my purposes. Citations and sources have not been
provided because it would interrupt the story. I appreciate the
efforts of Ianthe, who collected and posted this material.


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COMMENTS AND SUPPORT:

Coming soon        http://www.ghouldrool.com/ganymede

A special thank you to Randu for pointing out the difference between
rampart and rampant. I will try to keep it straight (no pun intended).

FINAL WARNING:

If you are under the age of 18, if this material is illegal in
your place of residence, or if man-boy relationships aren't your
thing, then exit now and save yourself from a life of sin!



The Ring Around the Rose, by Ganymede

Chapter Seven. Roses in the Light.



My first lesson to train the boys in using ingenuity and
invention for making love and war began shortly after lunch. It
occurred in a way that I least expected, and it made me even more
aware that teaching could derive the greatest message when it was
spontaneous and part of play.

My plan had been to spend the afternoon working in the Library
for I had much to do before I began to teach my course in
strategy. In my mind, and while gnawing on an apple from
Dordogne, I planned the curriculum. I would begin by taking a
different view, that of a survivor's perspective on the history
of the Mount. Indeed, there was much to be learned of stratagem
and subterfuge by studying the battle plans of ancient warriors
who had lived beyond their term, yet such opportunities were
often lost when ritual and formality ruled the day. However,
beyond simply telling the stories of warriors who endured, I
intended for the boys to apply the principles to real-life
lessons.

Accordingly, I left the Dining Hall promptly in order to
secure a comfortable seat close to the fireplace. That afternoon
would bring most, if not all of the masters together in the
Library for fellowship and study. The boys, being boys and left
to their own devices, would doubtless pursue the activities
nearest to their hearts, and take the opportunity enjoy the
freedom of their youth.

What should have been a direct route across the Great Hall,
immediately became circuitous for no sooner had I stepped across
the threshold than I perceived a person with whom I had an issue
to discuss. Doggedly, I pursued Master Devon to review the
situation with Michel that I had observed earlier in the day.

"I would like to talk with you about the lesson earlier
today," I announced boldly as soon as I was within a distance to
be heard.

He stopped mid stride and turned around. "Ah the new master of
Favonius boys. Aidan, is it not?"

"I am Aidan, Aquarius, a Vulturnus," I announced. "And you are
Master Devon. Your reputation is well known to me for I have the
pleasure of loving a boy sent forth from here in the recent
spring, Etienne."

"Ah, Etienne. A splendid lad. Quite a pretty body too if I
remember correctly, although I found him to be a little feeble
between the legs."

I could not help but scowl. "Not with me he wasn't."

I paused, counting slowly in my head. I breathed out, still
thoughtful, then taking the initiative, spoke aloud the fear that
was on my mind. It needed to be said.

"Having watched the training in hand to hand combat today, I
can now understand Etienne's skill at fighting."

He inclined his head a moment before he nodded slightly. He
was a tall thin man, yet his gaunt frame contained strength that
could be very dangerous if unleashed. There was no question that
he could move very quickly. His cunning eyes narrowed as he
studied me. He nodded deprecatingly.

"Yes," he added, "That's right. I saw you there." He scratched
his chin absently. He was calm but within I saw a soul that had
nerves of steel and a temper to match. "Yet I perceive from your
manner that you did not come to discuss Etienne. The issue that
concerns you is the boy who broke the order of the fight, is it
not? I have nothing to say to you on that account, Aidan."

The grim look on my face was answer enough. I held my tongue
and gave him utter silence to demonstrate my feeling on what had
happened.

He shrugged dismissively. "I am charged with conducting their
training to fight without the help of blade and staff. It is
difficult enough to take a clumsy child and produce a boy-warrior
of the highest order. More often than not, discipline is the
first lesson that I must teach. That boy needed the reprimand as
much as any other."

"I agree that discipline is important for a boy," I said
agreeably. He frowned. "However, does not an extreme imposition
of discipline prevent the exercise of judgment or the invention
of another way to fight. One might even argue that under the
circumstances Michel was not wrong to break the rule," I began
defensively.

"That is all you have to say?" he asked sarcastically. He
gestured arrogantly. "What experience do you have to know of the
art and skill fighting hand to hand? You look the kind who would
prefer to use a blade."

I smiled slightly and shrugged. Little would be gained to tell
this man of my exploits in the field. This man's talent was
barely sufficient to train the youngest boys in the movements of
attack and defense. He was good for little else. Expertise in
battle was a very different matter. I chose to hold my peace,
sensing that a time might come when surprise would be needed with
this condescending man.

"Not much," I offered absently. "I have often found that my
greatest battles are best fought without resort to either fist
and foot or proficiency with a blade."

"I thought so, Master Aidan," he interjected pompously. The
way he said it left no doubt that considered me a lesser person.
"Then perhaps you'll allow me to conduct the boys' lessons as I
see fit." His tone had quickly become threatening. However,
despite the tone, he still smirked knowingly. "What say you stick
to teaching your pretty little flower what he needs to know to
fuck and I'll teach him what he needs to know to fight. But
either way, that boy needs discipline if he's to be trained to do
either with success."

I yielded to him in the heat of the moment for I realized then
that to pursue the subject would do little but enrage him
further. What was more, I suspected that his anger would be
directed not at me, but at Michel. Some men were like that. I had
seen it often among the warriors. They resented a boy who was so
beautiful that their breath was taken away. I stepped back,
warily watching his eyes for a sign that might give me an
advantage in a future dispute. His eyes reminded me of the color
of ice under a gray northern sky.

"As you wish, Master Devon," I said calmly. "But I commend to
you the lesson I have learned. Do not deny the power of
surprise."

"What?"

"I speak of nothing that would be of interest to you," I
answered softly. "The old ways are not the only ways."

"There are no other ways," he countered quickly. His eyes
narrowed to cruel slits. "These boys are here on the Mount for
one reason, and for one reason only. They are but superfluous
mouths to feed. They constitute nature's blunders for they have
no interest in begetting children and so they are accorded no
value by society. These boys are expendable. To some they are
even considered evil, and because they have no purpose in this
world, they are trained to fight with the expectation that they
die in battle."

"Perhaps so," I ventured. I said the first thing that came
into my mind. Indeed, I pictured Etienne when the words left my
mouth. "Does that mean a boy has to die before his groin is
hairy?"

"I cannot help that boys die in war, Aidan. That is the way of
warriors, even young boys who have yet to spill more than a few
more droplets of their milky seed. It is enough that he finds
some glory in the shameful life he is destined to have. Does it
matter if a boy dies after he has shared his body with his man?
His existence is but a a transient happiness,...."

He parted then, leaving the thought unfinished and stalking
off towards the Vulturnus stair. With him went a thin red-headed
boy in hot pursuit. The lad was clearly Favonius and of an age
when his desire was so strong that he sought out lovers who
filled his bowels at every occasion. The slim child smirked at me
as he passed, and having paused to exchange a glance, nearly had
to run to keep up with his partner in sodomy. Despite his obvious
affiliation, the boy stayed a respectful pace or two behind,
revealing the apparent inequality between them. He seemed happy
enough, indeed as happy as any boy with the intention of bending
over to open his behind. However, just seeing him submissive and
so in need of being loved made me sad, for I always thought of a
boy as a peer in every way but one. Still, I appreciated that it
was a characteristic of Favonius boys that they needed to be
dominated whenever they were loved.

Having spent too much time in a fruitless argument with Master
Devon, I arrived at the Library to find every chair was taken.
That left the alternative of sitting on the hard stone floor or
postponing my research until a better time. Under most
circumstances I was seldom one to procrastinate, but a single
glance through the windows in the Library convinced me that I
could spend my time to greater advantage by sitting in the sun.
The cold grayness that had so depressed me when I first arrived
on the Mount had been dispelled, and that afternoon the golden
rays of sun reigned supreme. My dark mood had turned to one of
brightness with the light--brilliant light that beckoned me forth
to life again. The tide was fast receding and what water remained
sparkled inviting. I imagined a geode broken open to reveal a
crystal lining. What was beyond the stone walls of the Mount was
a treasure to be discovered.

I smiled, musing of the many afternoons when I had found
solace alone or engaged in exuberant play with other boys on the
shores below. It would be far too cold to swim, but a long walk
across the sands would do a lot to restore my spirits. I looked
forward to the peace and quiet of walking on the flat sands and
the cold salty air to fill my lungs.

With nothing but my humble woolen cloak to shield my body from
the wind, I started on my way. I paused only to acknowledge the
Master with a fond wave. He watched as I approached the main
stair which would take me to the Court and back down the path
that I had ascended several days earlier. He smiled, clearly
approving of my intention to spend the afternoon at the bottom of
the Mount.

"Might I recommend you go another way," he said in a low
voice. I turned back, feeling a vague sense of deja vu. "I do not
think that today should be spent alone below, Aidan," he added
mysteriously.

"Pardon? I thought,..."

He smiled, shook his head, and pointed to the stone pillars
that formed the foundation of the tower. Within the furthest
pillar was a hidden door that opened into a narrow passage. That
secret route led down through the solid rock beneath the Mount.
It terminated at the postern gate, an escape path that every man
and boy knew about, but never openly acknowledged to the other.

"A dozen Favonius boys have gone that way already," the Master
replied secretively.

"My boys?"

He smiled an answer and turned, stepping quickly back towards
the chamber of his office. I walked surreptitiously towards the
chapel, watching carefully to see if I was followed. Often, but
not together, men and boys went in to keep a previously arranged
tryst away from the prying eyes of others.

I closed the thick wooden door behind me and lit a taper.
Immediately, I observed that the Master had not been wrong for no
less than a dozen boys had preceded me and quickly discarded
their robes and shoes as soon as they were inside. I smiled,
noticing that one small robe had a narrow band of white while the
others all had sashes that were red. The answer to my question to
the Master was confirmed. Michel had gone this way. I touched the
cloth of his robe. It was still warm where it had been against
his body. Still smiling as I thought of what lay ahead, I
commenced the long descent.

If I remembered correctly, there were nearly a thousand
stairs before the tunnel leveled and opened onto the flattened
expanse of sands. The exit was carefully concealed among the
holly bushes that grew profusely at the base of the Sanctuary.
The light was very dim, and without a candle, descending those
uneven narrow stairs would have been very dangerous. I reflected
on the many times that I had gone up and down those stairs in the
pitch darkness. However, to my mind, the most interesting boys
were like that. They accepted unnecessary risks to make adventure
in almost everything they did. Climbing the stairs both nude and
in the darkness was part of the challenge of growing up. The
braver boys repeated the initiation until they knew every stair
and turn of the passage. My fingers brushed against the hewn
wall, tracing a line followed by every boy who had passed through
the Mount. I remembered the sudden variation in surface texture
where the rock strata changed, the ridge that identified the turn
just before the stairs became steeper, the twists and angles, and
sudden drops. Memories flooded back. My excitement was no less
than when I had been a boy, and naked as the day I was born, I
accompanied my friends into another world below.

The passage was musty and the stairs were sometimes slippery
where water dripped and dribbled. For a barefooted boy descending
in the darkness, it was very dangerous. It was also very
thrilling for halfway down was a hidden cavern. Although few boys
were aware, it was directly below the light-filled Chapel. Unlike
the sacred space above, the boys used the darkened cavern for
profane function. Boys would be boys, and if left alone would
soon discover the unique aspects of their humanity. I listened
carefully for any sound when I neared that private chamber. I
heard nothing, no whispered voice or muffled slap of flesh, which
left me slightly muddled until I remembered that often times the
younger boys would visit only once, and then on the return
journey.

So I continued past the well-concealed opening to the realm of
boys. The entrance was a narrow slit that no man could try to
penetrate. I wondered whether it was large enough to gain entry
for myself. Yet, it was not sufficient that if one could pass
through the gap, then one could enter into that place. Only boys
could enter.

At the bottom of the stairs I sighed and stretched my limbs. I
extinguished the taper and placed it on the ledge. Ahead, the
tunnel ran straight so there was no need for light. Indeed, there
was light at the end of the tunnel, for a glimmer escaped the
edge around the door. I quickly made my way to greet the sun. The
door swung back on well-oiled hinges. I pushed past the
overhanging holly bushes and I squinted for a while to adjust my
eyes before I gazed out onto the flat vastness of sand and mud. I
was content.

I turned around and stretched my neck as I looked up to the
sky. Overhead, the ramparts soared, reaching up in unascendable
curves all the way to the crenellations at the top. Still higher,
a phallic pole bore the standard of the Mount. I was reminded of
a young boy's rampant sex, thin yet standing stiff and straight.
Indeed, the sight and my memories of being young and randy made
me tremble. My desire increased. I dreamed of Michel.

On that sheltered side of the Mount, it was sunny and quite
warm for the wind was kept away. I stretched again and arched my
back and inhaled the fresh scent of the sea. I felt alive, as
alive as I had ever been. A thousand paces away the boys were
frolicking, squealing with unfettered glee as they gamboled
through the mud. It looked like they were wearing breeches. For a
moment I was uncertain of what I saw, and then I realized. All of
them were black with mud from the waist down.

At the tender youth of my dozen charges, all of them aged nine
through ten, the eyesight was remarkable. Within an instant
several of the boys waved in recognition. I heard their voices
bidding me welcome on the condition that I shed my cloak and run
naked with them through the mud. I laughed and waved back, but I
was still weak and I much preferred to sit upon a rock and watch
them play. And play they did. What boy first invented the game of
tag probably did not appreciate the possibility of doing it nude
and in knee-high mud. The Favonius version was a lot more fun,
not only because the boys played in teams, but especially because
the only place that could be tagged was in the center of the bum.
The 'tag' was a rounded stone that had been picked up from the
shore. The game had only recently commenced.

Despite the mud that streaked their thighs and legs, my eyes
were attentive to their beauty. This was the first time that I
had seen all of my charges in the nude. It was quite a sight to
behold. They were all slender boys with lithe bodies and what
seemed to me to be nothing less than boundless energy. Their
ability to dart and run was quite remarkable. Some showed such
agility and grace in their movements that my breath was sucked
away. Michel, while still lacking the practiced style and
expertise of the older boys, would surely be equal to the best
that I had ever seen. Nonetheless, in the game they played he was
clearly at a disadvantage being the youngest boy. He was the
target neither more or less often than any other boy, however the
game required a certain vigor and Michel was not as strong for
the simple reason that he had yet to train beyond what I had seen
earlier. However, he was a very fast runner and just as nimble as
any of the others, which boded well for later when his body had
strengthened.

For a long time, Michel managed to elude his six pursuers, but
in due course he was finally caught. Once caught, he was easily
thrown face down, whereupon three of the boys straddled him and
two others knelt beside them to restrict his movements while
Kadri was directed to insert the pebble. With his bottom covered
with the slime of mud it was an easy task to push the equally
slippery stone through his orifice. He yelped loudly when he
realized what it meant to be tagged. A better name for the game
of 'tag' would have been 'plug' for the unfortunate boy would
have to carry the stone within his rectum until Michel's team had
the opportunity to put the pebble into a player from the other
side. I laughed again and again at the boys' antics until they
plugged Michel and he had to yield. A virgin always took a little
longer. Indeed, the count had reached a hundred and three before
someone yelled, 'he's done'.

It was only then, when the six boys bounded to their feet and
ran towards me that I had a closer look at them. I recognized the
outward sign that separated Favonius from Vulturnus. All but
Kadri were banded between their legs. This was not of undue
surprise to me for I had always known what was done to make them
different from myself or Etienne. For all boys upon the Mount,
the addition of the metal band was done shortly after the rose
was ringed. For a Favonius boy, that little metal ring was worn
below the eggs, with the folds of the scrotum pulled through
tightly. Over time, this simple device allowed the skin to
shrivel with the eventual result that a boy's testicles had all
but vanished from sight by the time he reached sexual maturity.
By contrast, Vulturnus boys wore the band above the testicles.
This necessarily emphasized the contents of the pouch by forming
a tear-drop shape, a modification to nature's plan, but one that
had the added advantage of increasing stimulation when a boy's
eggs bounced around.

Michel arose awkwardly, clamping his buttocks together so that
they were pinched and hard. He appeared surprised.
Unquestionably, he could feel the foreign presence within him
when he moved. Even for a virgin, the stone was not large enough
to hurt. Neither was it particularly uncomfortable, but it
definitely felt strange moving around inside his bowels. In a
moment he would have to run. He walked a few paces, oscillating
his pelvis like a boy who was making love. That motion came
naturally to most boys when their rectums were subjected to such
stimulation. For the older boys who were used to anal pleasure,
it was not uncommon for them to experience sexual arousal when
they were tagged. Indeed, sometimes their excitement was so
heightened that orgasm occurred when they were running. Michel
turned and grinned boldly at me. Perhaps he was wondering whether
I had also played the game of tag when I was a boy.

Kadri, as second youngest, was naturally chosen as the next
victim and they chased him far along the sandy beach until he
reached a muddy hole close to the shore. It was no less than
twenty paces from where I sat. Some boys from Michel's team were
circling from the other direction, so Kadri had no way of
escaping except by jumping into the mud.

With a quick look behind him to ascertain that what lay
directly ahead of him was his only escape route, he leaped out
and cannon-balled into the thick black mud. His pursuers stopped
and looked down at the black-faced boy who finally rose to the
surface. Two of them waded in to get him while Kadri shrieked for
help from his team mates and splashed copious handfuls of mud at
them. Eventually, he was dragged ignominiously by his arms from
the mud hole and stretched out on the sand. This time, because he
was so dirty, no boy straddled his back. Instead they held his
hands and feet out. Because Michel was the last boy to be tagged
it was his role to insert the stone. I heard him laughing as he
squatted, and to the jeers and ribald comments from the other
team, used his fingers and tried to fish the egg-shaped stone out
without success.

"Well poop it out, Michel," someone shouted. "Hurry up. We're
losing time."

The count for Kadri's team was just at eighty-nine as Michel
nodded and closed his eyes. The veins in his thin neck grew
larger when he strained down as if to defecate. When the stone
finally passed through his sphincter he made a sound that was not
unlike a sigh of regret. I think I sighed with him, appreciating
that he had just experienced a sensation was enough to make any
young boy happy. In my mind, I recited the words of a poet from
ancient times:

"Sighs are soft, sighs are low,
Push down and let the joy begin to flow,
Feel the pressure mount within,
He whimpers when the sword goes in.
His sighs are soft, he offers up his treasure,
Push further into that place of pleasure."

Michel reached beneath him and picked the stone up when it
suddenly squeezed from his anus and plopped onto the sand. It was
larger than I expected, about the same size and color as a
Calamata olive. Giggling, he reached out to put the pebble where
it was supposed to go. With one hand he parted Kadri's cheeks and
exposed the intricate but mud-streaked marking of the recently
made rose. It was not as large as some of the roses that I had
seen, but it provided an ample indication of his capacity for
anyone who cared to make a casual inspection. With the fingers
from his other hand, Michel playfully probed the unprotected
hole. He managed to get one of his fingers all the way inside
before Kadri squeezed up tight.

Michel's fingers were small, but two or three of them would
have been big enough to provide considerable enjoyment in that no
longer virgin place. His first finger stayed there and moved
slowly back and forth, gliding on the muddy film. Kadri stopped
struggling within a heartbeat. His little buttocks visibly lifted
up and he clenched his fists tightly. After a few gentle pushes,
Michel's finger pulled out. He drooled saliva on it and placed it
back at the decorated opening. Slowly his finger twisted and
plunged into Kadri's anus, eliciting a groan of pleasure.

"That's for this morning, you cad," Michel giggled. His
knuckles rubbed around the furthermost petals of the rose as the
tip of his finger prodded Kadri's tiny hidden gland.

"Do it faster," Kadri instructed huskily. "You can use two
fingers if you want," he added with a quivering shudder.

The other boys laughed. "He's incorrigible," someone chortled.
"Just tag him, Miel. Push it up him so he's plugged and let's
play some more."

Michel grinned and jerked his finger out. An instant later he
placed the pebble between Kadri's firmly muscled cheeks. Once he
had located the opening to Kadri's rectum, he positioned the egg-
shaped stone and pressed his thumb down hard. I heard Kadri's
gasp of delight when the stone slid through the hole. A couple of
the boys shouted out the count of one hundred and eleven. Kadri
wriggled and tightened his sphincter to pull the stone further
into him. It was not unusual when a boy was tagged for the stone
to pop out when he chased his victim. Michel scrambled to his
feet even as the other boys released Kadri's hands and ankles.
All of them darted away, scattering in different directions to
avoid capture.

Off they ran, scampering across the wet sand with such
abundant energy that I watched in open admiration. Since I had
not met all of the boys, I was uncertain who was next in line. As
in most things on the Mount, order was important, and in the game
of tag, it was essential. They had to tag in zodiacal reverse
succession.

Kadri's team pursued a brown-haired lad with milky skin. He
had a delicacy about him that suggested effeminate qualities that
were barely realized, but which would in time define his persona
just as they defined every Favonius boy. His tiny scrotum was
flattened beneath his groin and his penis was as small as any
that I had seen. He ran quickly, bounding across the sand before
me. However, the boys who chased him were faster. Within a
hundred paces he was tackled around the ankles and brought
tumbling to the sand upon his belly. His flight had ended in a
churning array of limbs. The boys of Kadri's team quickly moved
to hold him down while Kadri squatted and with a grunt pushed
down as if to empty his bowels upon the sand.

Within moments, the pebble was exchanged, and then they were
off and running again. The count had reached two hundred and ten.
And so the game went on, providing amusement to me as I reveled
in the sight of a dozen stark naked boys being boys and doing
only what nature had intended for boys to do. They laughed and
shrieked in shameless fun as they criss-crossed the expanse of
sand. They ran until there were little footprints everywhere,
until they were black from head to toe with mud.

They played six full rounds of the game of tag before I called
them over. I bade them rinse off and sit upon the ground before
me. While most of the boys were panting from more than an hour of
constant exertion, it was not long before they were huddled close
together and lying low to keep out of the wind. Again, Kadri and
Michel were sitting close together, denying the separate teams
that they had just been on. They were already far more than
friends. To my mind this was not unexpected for it was considered
normal for boys to bond closely on the Mount. Indeed, it was not
uncommon for some of them to become companions after they had
mated with warriors and years later, lost their boyish charms.

"Let us talk about the rules of tag for a while," I began
slowly. One boy quickly raised his hand. "I'm afraid I have yet
to learn all your names."

He giggled shyly. "I'm Kiann, Master Aidan. Kiann, of Libra."

"Yes, Kiann, Libra," I prompted the eldest boy of the group.
He was a dark-haired, full-lipped beauty who possessed the traits
of Favonius as much as any other.

"Did one of us break the rules of tag?" he asked nervously.

I shook my head. "I for one would not mind particularly if you
did, Kiann. Games are intended to challenge the mind as much as
the body. All of you played hard and should be proud." I paused
to let my words sink in. "However,..." I began.

They all grew quiet, their faces attentive for Sanctuary boys
were trained to listen. I smiled reassuringly. All but Michel
expected to be punished for some transgression. Perhaps Michel
simply did not know any better, but more likely, he was born to
question. That innate ability to seek a higher understanding was
a fundamental part of his destiny. I watched his eyes. He was no
less shy than any other Favonius boy, yet his unwavering eyes
sought mine relentlessly. His intensity left no question in my
mind that he had found what he was looking for.

"Why are there rules?" I asked pointedly.

"Because that is how the game of tag is played, Master," Kiann
answered.

I laughed. "Yes, that is true, Kiann. But why does the game
have rules in the first place."

Kiann shrugged. "Because there are," he replied eventually.

"Because is not reason enough to explain the phenomenon of
having rules. Rules are needed to maintain order. They are used
to ensure that a process is followed, but also to keep the peace.
Rules are also used to limit thought and control one's actions."

Michel's gaze became concentrated and he hung on my every
word. I had the strangest feeling that I was speaking to him
alone. Even Kadri appeared perplexed. The boys regarded each
other with disturbing confusion. What was going through their
minds left me disturbed. It was evident that they could not think
beyond convention. Order and regulation had become ingrained, and
for a warrior this was the most dangerous thing of all. Did no
one who had been trained on the Mount understand the reason why
boys died unnecessarily? I put the question very carefully.

"Is it important for a warrior to be so restricted by rules
and ritual that he cannot take an alternate action?"

Another boy tentatively raised his hand. I nodded. "Master
Aidan, I'm Albie, of Virgo." He hesitated to go further. Finally,
he added. "A warrior must follow orders otherwise there would be
turmoil on the battlefield."

"That is true is some respects, Paulo, but consider the tactic
of the Seventh Dragon. Who knows of that procedure?"

"Master Aidan, the left blade is raised to sky, then brought
to parry to the right. You execute a turn to balance, then return
to standing position ready to continue the defense," Albie
replied immediately.

Again I nodded. "Correct, Albie. It is one of the simplest
defensive movements you will learn. However, is there a way to
engage the enemy in such as way as to move to stop his forward
slash with unexpected offense?"

The boys starred at me as if I had suggested that the earth
was round. Then, an interesting thing occurred. Michel whispered
in Kadri's ear. Kadri glared at him, yet slowly raised his hand
to keep his friend's respect.

"You could, um,..." Kadri looked at Michel again, clearly
uncomfortable. "Um,... I suppose you could do it differently,
Master Aidan."

"That's correct, Kadri," I said encouragingly. "What would you
do instead?"

Kadri shrugged and blushed to demonstrate his uncertainty.
"Um, you could take a step back before the turn," he offered
timidly. Again he glanced at Michel to see whether he had said it
correctly. Michel nodded slightly.

"And what would that achieve, Kadri?" I pressed.

"I don't know," Kadri admitted with a grin. "It's not my idea
you see, Master Aidan."

"That doesn't matter. Any idea is welcome in my class. Let us
find out by example. Stand up and pretend you're fighting. You
take the attack, Kadri. Michel, since it was your idea
originally, you can play the part of defense. Get two of those
sticks from the beach."

Quickly the boys gathered what they needed and took their
positions as the Seventh Dragon movement required. Kadri stepped
and raised his stick to prepare for a downward slash. By rule,
Michel should have raised his stick to protect his left flank,
and then turning, quickly parried to the right to deflect the
returning movement. Instead he stepped back, beyond Kadri's
reach. Surprised, Kadri stepped to fill the gap. He was stunned
to find Michel's stick pointing at his throat.

"What?" Kadri exclaimed. He was shocked and angry that he had
been defeated so quickly. "He broke the rules," he shouted
loudly.

"Yes he did, and now you're dead."

"But, but, but the rules, Master Aidan?" Albie interrupted.
"You can't change the order of the fight. It's not allowed."

"Kadri lost because he followed the rules," I pointed out. "In
battle, does it matter that the rules are followed and you die,
or not, and you live to fight again?" I asked quietly.

"But? The rules are to be followed precisely. A warrior cannot
do whatever he wants," Kiann argued heatedly.

"In part that is true, Kiann, but a strict application of the
rules also controls our actions and thoughts. It matters only
that Kadri would be dead. The purpose of fighting is to win and
not to die." I paused. From their expressions few boys were
following my line of thought. "Let me tell you a story. This is
the story of Antonius, a Virgo. He was a Vulturnus boy of great
repute, a boy who served the warrior, Erasmus, in ancient times.
At the fifth battle beyond the Southern Plains, a hundred
warriors defeated an enemy force ten times that number by simple
surprise and a good measure of ingenuity. The boys, numbering
perhaps two dozen, were hidden above a gorge and armed with
gourds."

"Gourds?" Albie ascertained. He tilted his head to the side so
that his long blond locks fell across his brow.

"Yes, gourds," I repeated. "However, each gourd had been
filled with something special. Can you imagine the effect of pure
saltpeter, a speck or two of St. Elmo's fire, both mixed with
charcoal from the fire and a little yellow sulphur taken from a
volcano?"

Again the boys looked at me with bewildered expressions,
except Michel whose face reflected total amazement. Unless I was
much mistaken, he had already put two and two together and come
up with a formula worthy of any alchemist. He met my eyes again
before he spoke. I saw respect and admiration, and something more
that made my heart miss a beat.

"Master Aidan, I have heard of that concoction," he said
awkwardly. "The fire of St. Elmo begets a greater fire. It makes
a noise like thunder and lights the sky like lightening. It is
described in the ballads of,... Um,... I fear that I forget who
sang it."

All of the boys laughed at him and within an instant his
cheerful face became forlorn. I heard him mutter 'it's true',
before he lowered his eyes again in shame.

"That's enough boys," I said firmly. "In fact, the story
Michel describes is told in many ballads, some of which you may
have heard or even sung yourselves. The mixture in the gourds
explodes to make a fireball. It is very loud and has destructive
power far greater than any lightening bolt. This invention of the
distant East was applied by Antonius. It was the essence of the
surprise that won the battle. The warriors led the enemy into a
canyon, whereupon their boys released a hundred meteors or more.
They killed most of the enemy within the time it took to throw
the gourds. The rest were quickly dispatched by the warriors who
stayed below."

"That's right. Now that you have refreshed my memory, I too
have heard the tale of Antonius," one of the boys admitted. He
smiled before he continued. "Master Aleyn told it to me one night
when my bowels hurt. I remember it felt like there was a fire
within me from doing it too much. The tale was told to me as a
pertinent lesson for a boy who was too frequent a recipient in
the act of anal sex. I am Ryui, Gemini, by the way."

Several of the boys giggled. That fiery ache was something
that they were all familiar with. Often a simple change in diet
was enough to restore balance to the abused colon. If that did
not succeed, a visit to the apothecary was in order to ease the
passage both in and out. There was a price to be paid for a man
to enter in the place of feces. I glanced at Michel, just a
little curious to see if he had grasped the meaning. His
expression was one of innocence. He would learn that lesson
before much longer.

"Well, enough of that," I quipped. "The point I wish to make
is that invention and surprise served to win. It was all that was
needed to give the victory to a boy."

But Master Aidan,..." Kiann started loudly in frustration. He
calmed himself. "We cannot change the rules to suit ourselves."

Then suddenly Michel grinned. He answered for me with
surprising candor. "You miss his point, Kiann. Master Aidan means
we should adjust the rules to suit the situation, and if we can't
change the rules to win, then it serves us better if we play a
different game."

"That's all?" Kiann asked cynically. "You would have us change
the rules of tag in order for you to win, Michel?"

"If that is all it takes to win, then why not do what is
required. We owe it to ourselves to do the best we can."

Kiann glared at Michel. "You're a novice," he retorted
angrily. "When you wear the rose between your cheeks like the
rest of us, perhaps we'll listen to what you have to say. Until
then it is better that you held your tongue."

Again, Kadri rose to his friend's defense. "The rose proves
nothing except that a man's fucked your ass. It does not matter
that Michel's the youngest. I think he's right in what he says."

"Right or wrong, it makes no difference," I interrupted. I did
not like to see the boys squabbling. "Boys, let us play the game
again. This time you cannot change the rules, but you can use
alternate means to achieve your ends."

"How do we do that, Master Aidan?" Kiann asked sullenly.

"For one thing, you play the game of tag in two teams. One
team attacks and the other defends. As all of you know, team work
is as important on the battlefield as in the game of tag. Do not
allow your team mates to run alone in either role. The last time
that you played the game, the boys who were pursued always ran
alone."

"But that is a rule of the game, Master Aidan."

"Is it Kiann? Are you sure? The rules say only that the boys
must be tagged in order, and that a boy must carry the stone
within his rectum until the next one is captured. It does not say
that the boys of one team cannot run together."

Michel grinned. "Nor do the rules say that you have to catch
every boy in order."

I nodded at Michel approvingly. He had picked up very quickly
on what I had said. I wondered what variation had passed through
his head. He had emphasized the word 'catch', implying that being
caught and being tagged were completely different things. I
suspected I would see the results of his idea very shortly, but
he was not about to inform the competition of what he planned to
do. I gestured dismissal to the boys and watched with interest
while they regrouped into teams. This time, Michel's team
appeared to pass the leadership to its most junior member. They
clustered around him and listened carefully. 'Another sign of a
good leader', I thought to myself. After a while, half of the
boys headed off towards the distant channel of water. I observed
two of them surrounding Michel with three others disposed as
outfielders. Apparently Michel had assigned them the role of
interdiction. Even I was about to be surprised.

Kadri's team was like the proverbial headless dragon. There
was little sense of order despite Kadri's efforts to assume
command and develop a plan for victory. Half a dozen boys chased
Michel as the rule required. Interestingly, Michel's outfielders
swung around behind them as they ran along the sand. It seemed
that one team had been further subdivided to provide both attack
and defense for as soon as the Kadri's team narrowed the gap and
threatened Michel, the outfielders swept in and captured Kadri. I
burst out laughing. In my mind, the game was already won.
However, it took forever for the remaining boys to get close
enough to Michel for his two defensive players were always in the
way. Nonetheless, five boys against three would be victorious and
eventually Michel lay outstretched upon the sand.

So carefully had Kadri been captured and concealed within a
shallow depression, that his own team had no idea of where he
was. Another boy, Albie I presumed from his long blond hair for I
could see little else, did the honor of tagging Michel. He knelt
down and roughly forced the pebble home. By then, the count had
reached three-hundred-and-seven. Almost as soon as Michel was
released, he leaped to his feet and ran at full speed towards the
canal. I continued laughing as the stone was plucked from his
bottom and swiftly inserted inside Kadri. I heard the delighted
shrieks of the boys as they shouted out 'sixty-three'. Even as
that pleasurable task was completed by the boy who had stolen my
heart, Michel's team had grabbed their next victim.

And so the game went on, a clear victory for Michel's team
despite the other team's best efforts to duplicate their example.
Every time they caught on to what was happening, Michel had
another strategy that kept his team a step or two ahead.
Doubtless it was frustrating for Kadri's team to see their
players get tagged so swiftly and to expend so much energy in
getting through Michel's defensive players. When the round was
finished the boys approached me. Six of them were laughing. The
others were not amused for the final score was anything but
funny. I gave them time to catch their breaths and wash the mud
away before I continued the lesson.

"Well my beautiful Favonius boys, what lesson did you learn
today?" I asked.

"They cheated," Kiann complained. "They broke the rules,
Master Aidan."

"No they didn't," Kadri interposed while Michel scowled. "They
didn't cheat. Instead they used the rules to invent other ways of
playing. We played like Vulturnus boys and they used their brains
to win the game."

All of the boys laughed. There was an ever present but
friendly rivalry between Vulturnus and Favonius, and the two
groups of boys appreciated that they had taken on quite different
characteristics for the situation. Kiann tossed the pebble onto
the beach and ruefully rubbed his rear portal where it had been
lodged. He walked across to stand beside another boy, Ryui. He
was the same boy who had talked of having a sore anus from too
much penetration. He had a slender body with narrow hips, but
from the size of Kiann's penis it was clear that the injury
wrought within his rectum had been accomplished by another. I
looked forward to experiencing that delight for myself. From the
way he pressed against his friend it was apparent that he had no
problem sharing nature's bounty. What was more, he had the
appearance of a boy who not would only be willing to be taken
into a man's bed at night, but who would be reluctant to leave in
the morning.

I cleared my throat with a hearty cough. It got their
attention immediately.

"From now on, my lads, you will play to win. Not by cheating
or breaking rules, but by using invention instead of unthinking
ineptitude. Only a fool follows rules without considering the
consequences of doing so. Think before you take action, imagine
alternatives, transpose solutions, always look for other ways.
The purpose is to gain advantage by surprise."

"Yes, Master Aidan," they chorused together.

"Now, I think it was time we were going back."

"You're not angry that we came down to the sands, Master
Aidan?" Kiann asked nervously. "Master Aleyn used to forbid it.
He said that it was wrong for us to play down here for it took us
away from the discipline of training."

I shook my head. "I am anything but angry, Kiann. I am of the
opinion that boys need freedom to learn some things. These are
the things that cannot be taught in formal classes," I explained.
I looked up to the towering walls above us. "There is much to
learned up there in the Mount, but there is also a lot to be
learned down here. I came here myself when I was young. Playing
together provides a boy with lessons that are no less important
than the training you must receive in order to fight."

"What about for making love?" someone giggled.

"That's also true, for love benefits from the playing of games
as well. Playing builds imagination and restores our soul, and
there is no question in my mind that the best lovers are
inventive boys who possess both pluck and spirit."

Michel grinned boldly, then realizing that I had noticed his
quickened interest, immediately averted his eyes. I had the
unsettling feeling that he thought that my definition had been
intended to describe him. 'An inventive boy with pluck and
spirit.' Certainly, he was that and more, much more.

"It's time we returned," I said absently.

"Did you come down here when you were a boy, Master Aidan?"
Kadri asked.

"Yes I did, and often. I came to play, but I was also a hungry
Vulturnus in those days." I smiled. "Indeed, I remember one day
when I was nearly twelve. I fucked one less than a dozen boys
right where you're sitting, Kadri."

They burst into laughter, appreciative of Vulturnus stamina.
Several of them gave me doe-eyes, shameless and suggestive looks
that implied I should repeat the exercise with them at the
earliest opportunity. Had I been at full strength nothing would
have pleased me more than to penetrate eleven of them right there
and then. Instead, it was with a rueful grin that I stood up and
led the way back through the holly bushes and into the tunnel
beyond the postern gate.