Date: Fri, 26 Jun 2020 12:01:36 +0000 (UTC)
From: ozzalone65@aol.com
Subject: Lieutenant Gorham (Jarman (6)

This is a fictional story that is for a character from my current tale
'with the Ramgards' that I have been writing.
A few were taken with the character Gorham. The the village guards
lieutenant that I surmised the hot manly man needed a tale all his own.
It tells of his need to help young men escape the clutches of an
intolerant church. And the boys he saves. But this is told at the point
of view of said boys.
There may be man-beasts in this tale. But not the predominant fixtures of
the story. It is for the hot and hairy Gorham

Do enjoy.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Lieutenant Gorham
(Jarman (6)

... It didn't take Gorham long to find his family. Hours. The door opened
and a guard grabbed him and pulled him out. Jarman was dragged out to the
main halls. A priest looked at him with concern. But he dare not question
the lieutenants orders. He seemed scared of the beast. So he just let
them pass.
He was lead to the outside and into the main streets. Gorham joined us as
we walked through the village and headed towards the home if his father.
They were there in minutes.

"Noo!" Jarman cried
"I don't want to go back there"
"Please!"
"Shut up boy" the guard holding me said
"Be lucky that Gorham is being lenient to you"

He pulled at Jarmans arm hard and he cried out from pain. He twisted it
back so much that it did hurt. He hoped he would just break the arm so he
could scream and die before he reach home.
Then they were at the door to Jarmans  old house. The huge Gorham knocked
in the door.  A tired looking woman answered it. She half smiled as she
saw him.

"Oh there you at Jarman" she said
"We have been worried"
"Who is it?" Came the dull horse sounding voice of my father
"Its the lieutenants guard dear" she huffed
"They have brought back our son"

Jarmans father showed little concern that he was back. He just huffed
that he thought he was dead. Gorham regarded him for a moment. As if he
may wonder if the man cared if the boy was was indeed alive or dead. But
then just brushed it off as the mother smiled at him. Letting out her
hands to hug her son.

"Maybe you can get him to finally do something around here" he then
huffed
"For I am tired"
"Please don't leave me here sir" the boy begged of Gorham
"He is sure to beat me"

But the guard seemed also unconcerned for him as he was pushed me into
the house of his father again. Saying to stay with his family and not get
in anymore trouble. Then the guards left him there.
He just stood there for a few moments. He had been away from them on and
off for moths now. Since his adventures and fun with his now gone friend.
Jarmans eyes saddened as he thought of what horrors were be falling him
and his father. What tortures. He feared for Panfar and his father. They
were always good to him. And now he was back in the place he liked the
least if all. With his hateful father and a mother that just dis what the
cruel man said

"I cannot stay here" he thought to himself
"I will surely be dead my nights end"

He pondered whether that was actually such a bad thing. To be free of
this place if hate. To be free of his foul parents. Especially his
father.
Then hos father regarded him again. Ordering him to come over to where he
sat.

"You. Boy. Get over here. Now" he growled

He paused and took a breath. Then he stepped over to where his father
was. Slowly as he feared the hand holding the the arm of his chair. That
arm that had so many times struck him violently on the buttocks and back.
It was a big meaty hand. His father then grasped the the chairs arms and
lifted himself up from it.
He stood just a bit taller than Jarman himself. A fairly short man of 5
foot 8 or so. But he looked like he had lost some weight from the last
time Jarman looked upon him.
His father thanks the men and waited for them to leave. Waited upon wait
as he knew they were gone. Then he attacked Jarman. Giving him a rousing
beating. A beating Jarman knew would come.

"Now get to your room filth" he growled
"You will have double the work for leaving it all to me"

Jarman cried as he lay in his bed. He felt he would die there. His father
would surely kill him for disobedience. But he could not libe here.
So the following morning he left again. Grabbing a pack and some things
from the kitchen, some tools and supplies he thought he would need. Then
before his parents woke for a new day he opened the door and left. He
told himself he would never return. He hated it there.

"I wish you all dead" he gruffed at the house
"I will fond my way. On my own"

His plan was to first go out to the old dilapidated part of the village,
where he and his friend had been. He would stay there until he could
figure what to do next. His eventual.plan was to leave the village
entirely. Somehow go over the wall and climb down the other side. Then he
would venture out there into the wilderness. Alone.
But he had learned alot from Panfar. So he figured he could survive out
there. Maybe move through the wilderness just along side the main roads
and trails to find another village. There were many out there. One of
them should be able to take him. Least they be as his, lead by the
falsehoods of the scrolls.
But he would have to figure that put on his own.

"Or maybe I can find my own home." He thought
"Somewhere far away"
"Create my own village"
"Free from all this"
"And I would urge all who defy the teachings there"

It was a pipe dream at best. For he was still young. And for all he knew
he could die once he left the village. But even death was better than
living there.
He reached the outskirts and the old section again in an hour. He stepped
through the broken and crumbling stone of the buildings. There were about
a dozen buildings there. He looked through them to see which was most
suited to live in.
Once he had determined the best one capable of keeping him from the
elements he started to put things together to make it a home. It was a
small 2 room house that had less damaged. No holes in the ceiling (at
last in one room). There he made a bed out of straw and leaves he began
to collect.
He had taken his mothers favorite woven bed cover to use to cover himself
it it got cold. And with no windows it would get cold there.

"This is where I am to be" he said to himself
"Until I die. Or leave this place entirely"

And he was well there for many weeks. Setting traps for rabbits and small
animals for food. There were berry and fruit trees growing wild. Just to
the east of the old dilapidated village. Probably seeded there when last
someone lived there. The saplings of many generations of the fruit from
when someone last was there, oh so long ago. Making fires to cook the
animals he caught and to stay as warm as possible when the evening cold
fell.
Jarman seemed alright. At least until he heard the sounds of horses. He
was in his dwelling and just getting back from a stroll down to the
nearest river that was a good mile away for water. He had planned on
digging up the old well he found under some rubble on the village. That
way he would worry less about having to walk so far to get water.

"What?!" He crowed as he herd the sounds.
"Have they found me"
"I cannot be taken back.!"
"I won't be taken back!"

He gathered some of his things and rushed into his house. He had made
himself a bidding spot just in case they were to come searching. He
rushed into the dark crevice he created and hunkered down in there.
Covering himself in a sheet of leaves he made. Then he just waited there,
praying not to be discovered.
Well he had no worry for that. There were faint voices out there. So
whomever it was was not near his dwelling. There were several male voices
and the calls and cries of a younger person. A boy or young man as the
voice hadn't changed yet. The cries and sounds made him curious.
Jarman crawled out if his hiding place. Then stepped through the main
room and peered out the window. Trying to see what he could see. He could
almost see then, but they were too far off to get a good look. He had to
go back in and find the view scope he stole from his father. He grabbed
it and came back to the window. He pulled the scope to his face and
looked through it.

"What are they doing?" He wondered

There were at least three guards men there in the clearing some 30 yards
away from where he was. There was a stine table there where people are in
groups and the men were next to it. There was a young lad there with
them. He was no more that 20 and small for his age. But he was on his
knees before the men.
Jarman saw as one of them slapped the boys face. They said something he
could not quite hear. But from the young man's higher pitched pleas he
knew he was begging for his life. Where they to kill him here for
whatever sin he had committed?

"Should I help him?" Jarman considered

He did consider it. He considered risking himself and capture for aiding
the young man. He considered grabbing his knife and going after them. But
as he considered this he saw the young mans head moving between the
guards. His hand reaching for something. And his mouth opened some.
And then Jarman knew what was happening. He knew what the boy was doing
on his knees. He was giving the guards oral pleasure. His head bobbing
back and forth between the big men.

"Ohh my God!" Jarman huffed
"Out here?"
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
To be continued