Maiocxx

Tales from the World of Cody and Lucas II

The Adventures of Brother Timothy

Introduction

The life may have been simple, but the 'world' sometimes impinged on the Brothers and their Prior, Father Bertram. Of all the brothers, Tim 3; as he was usually called 3; was the most 'worldly' of them and fell naturally into the role of interpreter and 'fixer' when modern reality inserted its claws into their sheltered existence.

Let us see just how well he is able to straddle these two worlds.

1. The Acolyte

Three figures 3; Brother Adam, accompanied by two young teen 'students' ventured down to the shore to see what might have washed up.

Author's Note: to determine who these 'students' are, please see Daniel in the Lion's Den, Chapter 2,, part of an earlier series.

Imagine their surprise at what they discovered: two bodies 3; an adult and a young boy 3; and the remains of a shattered boat.

The three of them ran to the bodies and quickly determined they were both still alive; alive but unconscious. Turning the boy over they gasped; he was tattooed and beaten all over his chest and thighs and freshly adorned with nose, nipple and penis rings. Aside from a lump on the side of his head, the adult seemed mostly unharmed. Summoning help from the monastery, they quickly carried both up the hill and into the small infirmary where Brother Cadfel and Brother Timothy were waiting to minister to them.

The adult regained consciousness first and they learned his name was Peter Pederson and the boy was his son, Olaf. Over the next several hours, he told the brothers, in bits and pieces, a harrowing story of hardship and privation. From what he told them and what the boy revealed later, they were able to piece together a fairly accurate account of how they came to be washed up on Iona.

Although a citizen of Norway, Peter had studied in England where he had met and married an English lass named Helen. Both of them taught in the public schools and in due course a son, Olaf, was born to them. When Olaf was little more than a year old, Peter accepted a position as a full professor at one of Norway's leading universities and the family moved to Trondheim on that country's west coast. Both parents taught English and Olaf had been raised in a truly bi-lingual household, being fluent in both English and Norwegian.

Sometime later, a man calling himself 'Thane of All the Vikings' came to Trondheim. He claimed to be founding a new community on an island in the West where they would live like the Vikings of old. For some reason, he captivated Helen and Peter and they agreed to be part of his great adventure.

They liquidated all their possessions, turning the proceeds over to the Thane and were transported by boat along with about twenty other couples and a few children to a bleak island on which a long abandoned settlement would be their new home. The island turned out to be Suduroy, southernmost of the Faeroe Islands that belonged to Denmark.

The Thane ruled them with an iron fist; except for a few trusted men he called his 'warriors' he kept the rest of the settlers in line with a combination of fear and savagery. Most of the women and children were raped and the men beaten into submission. It would later be proved that he sometimes manipulated the water supply with drugs to keep them all docile and obedient.

The settlement had been abandoned since the Great Flu Epidemic in the late 20th Century, but at least provided some shelter from the winter gales. That first year, they nearly starved and froze to death, their only food being what they had brought with them, supplemented with the few fish they were able to coax from the pounding seas.

The crops they planted the following spring did not do well, either and, after a severe storm destroyed most of their meager barley crop, the Thane declared they must make sacrifice to Odin, king of the Norse Gods. He was obviously offended and would have to be placated by blood sacrifice.

He chose Olaf. Such was the complete thrall in which he held all the settlers, the boy's parents made no protest, even though they knew Olaf would be sacrificed on the altar. Olaf was taken from them to be 'prepared' for his journey to the gods. His screams rent the darkness every night, but they didn't seem to care.

On the night of the full moon, the Thane laid Olaf's battered body on the stone altar, handed the sacrificial knife to the boy's mother and commanded her to plunge it into Olaf's heart to release the blood that Odin desired.

Roused at last from her thrall, she plunged the knife into her own bosom instead.

In the ensuing chaos, Peter scooped up his son and fled the island with him in a small boat. The storm quickly overtook them, driving them ever east and south until they foundered on the rocks along Iona.

Turning their attention to the boy, Tim and Brother Cadfel removed the rings from his body. Several of the wounds 3; especially the one through his penis 3; were infected and they treated them as best they could. His foreskin was especially infected, so they performed circumcision on him to remove the putrefied skin. They also attempted to relieve the red, raw damage to his anus and the bruises and welts on his small body. Brother Tim expressed some very 'un-brotherly' statements about the monster who would do this to an innocent child 3; for which he received a halfhearted rebuke from his prior.

When Olaf finally awakened, he immediately broke into terrified, screaming fits, pounding Tim's chest with his little fists as he tried to hold and comfort him. The curses he hurled at Tim were in Norwegian, so they meant little to him; he simply held him close and continued to try to console him. Finally, Olaf slept, a restless sleep full of nightmares. It would be several days until they dared to tell Olaf his father had died.

The next two days were much the same. Where the boy got the energy to battle them so was anyone's guess, as they were unable to get him to eat or drink anything. On the third day, he was a bit calmer and Tim got him to take a bit of soup. After that he became docile 3; as if in a spell 3; doing what he was told, eating what was put before him and little else.

From the haunted look in his impossibly blue eyes, Tim knew the boy was locking up all his terror inside him. It would have to come out if they had any hope of saving him. Brother Cadfel agreed and gave Tim a potent to slip into his food. Relaxing into a trance, Olaf finally began to talk; the story he told was horrible beyond measure.

When the Thane had taken him from his parents, the first thing he and all the Warriors did was to rape him. He was then hung by his feet and beaten with a whip. Night after night, while two of the Warriors held him down, the Thane inexpertly applied the tattoos, ignoring the boy's screams of agony. But no one seemed to care!

The day before his 'journey' the rings were pushed through his living flesh providing more 'entertainment' for the Warriors. Mercifully, he passed out as the one was pushed through the glans of his penis. By the time he was laid upon the altar he was barely conscious.

He saw the knife in his mother's hand start to descend and that was the last thing he remembered until he woke in Tim's arms.

Olaf was somewhat less agitated, but still terrified when Tim held him. He could feel the boy's little heart racing. But gradually, he began to earn Olaf's trust and, much to his surprise, began to love him.

Finally, one evening, Olaf dropped his guard and clung to Tim crying. "Brother Tim, I have been frightened of you and full of hate even though you saved me and tried to make me feel better. Can you ever forgive me?"

"You will always be forgiven, little one," Tim replied holding the sobbing boy close. "You have lost your family so, perhaps we brothers can be sort of a family for you." And from that moment, Olaf began to love Tim with all his heart.

He became a willing worker in the community, faithfully following Tim to help out wherever he could. It wasn't long before Tim could assign Olaf tasks that he was glad to perform independently. Quickly making friends with the 'students' and their squire, he often joined them in classes or other activities, freeing Tim to pursue some of his other responsibilities.

The little hot spring that Tim had helped to discover years ago was a favorite spot with many of the brothers and used extensively by the 'students' and their squire as well. Once the danger of infection in Olaf's wounds had passed, Tim introduced him to the water's curative powers as well. Olaf seemed most calm in the relaxing pool and they visited several times a week. Olaf's wet, naked body stimulated Tim in ways he would rather it had not, but still they came to this special spot.

Winter on Iona can be quite severe, with bone chilling winds, pounding seas and epic ice storms. From the beginning Olaf had been housed in the unheated 'visitors' dormitory with the five 'students' and their squire. Each night he carefully folded the small monk's habit he had been given and slept naked, rolled up in the coarse woolen blankets the Brothers had provided. These were usually adequate to ward off the chill of the long night, but occasionally an additional source of warmth was appreciated.

Tim had returned to his cell after Compline one night and lost no time in retreating to his blankets. He dreamed that night of an earlier time when he and his twin, Robert, had usually slept together, warm in their love and embrace of each other. He had just spooned against his brother and wrapped his arms around him when he suddenly became aware he wasn't dreaming.

And there really was a naked little body snuggled down in his arms, sleeping peacefully.

He managed to stifle his shout of alarm and simply lay there enjoying the luxurious feeling of Olaf.'s 3; he had managed to figure out who it was 3; bare skin against his own nakedness.

After some hours, the bell for Lauds tolled and Tim began to try to extract himself. Olaf stirred, so Tim asked him with some trepidation, "What are you doing here?"

"Well," whimpered his sleepy 'guest', "I was cold, and the others all have someone to sleep with and I was scared, and 3; 3; 3;" He began to tear up, "Please don't send me away. It's so nice here with you. And I don't have anyone else!"

Tim sighed. How could he reject the little guy! After all he had been through!

"All right. You may stay here. I will come for you after Lauds." He swiftly donned his woolen habit, looked down at the again sleeping child and went off to the chapel.

But he was troubled.

That little boy next to him had stimulated all kinds of feelings, feelings he had long sought to repress. So, after breakfast, he sought out Brother Cadfel who had been both a physician and a trained psychologist.

"He's lost everything that is important to a child: home, family and very nearly his life," Cadfel told him. "I suspect you have become a father-figure for him. So, I advise giving him body-comfort 3; that's what it's called in proper terms. You have done nothing wrong. But the hardest struggle is yet to come. How do you keep it from going further? Assuming, of course, you don't want it to go further. Hmmm?"

And that was exactly what terrified Tim. He hungered for Olaf's body! Those little arms around his neck and those sweet kisses took Tim's breath away. .He didn't want to be stigmatized as a pedophile! And he didn't want to hurt Olaf, either. Prayer did not help one bit. God was evidently busy with other more important things.

All was well for several weeks. Tim would return from Compline to find that little boy waiting for him. Struggling mightily, he would hug Olaf, give him a chaste kiss on his forehead, wrap the boy in his arms and they slept. At least Olaf did. Tim lay awake, heart pounding, guts clenched until sheer exhaustion took over.

But Armageddon was swiftly approaching.

One night, the Father-Prior canceled Compline because of the severe cold in the chapel and Tim was in bed with his burden early. Reasoning 'now or never', Olaf struck!

"Brother Tim, do you love me?"

Tim almost had a seizure! But he managed to swallow his heart again and croaked, "Yes!"

"How much?"

"More than I've ever loved anyone," Tim confessed.

"Would you like to show me your love? Can I show you how much I love you?"

"What do you mean?" squeaked Tim.

"Would you love me 3; 3; 3; with your hands?"

Full of panic and seeking to talk his way out of it, Tim replied, "But you told me the Thane did that to you and you hated it!"

"Yes, but he didn't love me and I hated him. All he wanted to do was hurt me! But I love you! And, and, and you try to make me feel better!"

Resistance was futile! He desperately hungered for that soft, warm body. He could not have denied the boy if his immortal soul depended upon it.

Which Tim was quite sure it did!

Sensing Tim's hesitation, Olaf asked, his voice quavering, "Don't you want to love me?" It was all Tim could do to nod yes. "Don't you want me to make you feel good, too?" Another nod.

In a complete stupor, he began to explore the boy: his smooth cheeks with its splash of freckles, the soft, warm chest with his little pert nipples 3; now impossibly hard 3; his beautiful behind 3; Olaf winced a bit when Tim touched his little rosebud, still sore from the depredations of the Thane and his thugs 3; the muscles of his lovely long legs. Every time Tim touched a new place, Olaf shivered in ecstasy. Tim luxuriated in the warm, soft body beneath his fingers.

He gently rubbed and stroked every part of him. Except one. And Olaf took care of that, by placing Tim's hand right on his little package and then he reached for Tim's maleness, too. Tim gasped and let out a strangled moan; that little hand clutching his prick was almost more than he could endure. Olaf's not-so-little one was so hard, Tim was afraid he would break it. The damage from the ring thru his glans had healed without a scar.

Where had Olaf learned about such things? Certainly not from the Thane! One of the 'students', perhaps.

Olaf sighed and began to purr like a kitten. Tim was well beyond caring for his soul. Olaf was so warm and soft. He began to whimper and Tim, alarmed, asked him, "What's wrong. Should I stop?"

"No! No!" gasped the little boy. "Don't ever stop! It feels soooooooo goooooood."

The boy squirmed and moaned, his breath coming in little gasps. His whole little body shook just waiting for his peak to arise. A gasp and a repressed squeal signaled that event and it was some time before Olaf knew where and whom he was, let alone who given him that brilliant feeling.

"Was this your first?" Tim asked him gently.

Olaf was gently weeping, "Oh yes! And it was 3;.. it was 3; 3; it was 3;.. Oh Brother Tim, it was the most wonderful 3;.. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you for saving me! Thank you for loving me! Thank you for being here for me," as he smothered Tim with kisses.

"I'm glad for you, little one," he assured him softly. Then, "I love you, Olaf! With all my heart!" And he was sure all the bells in heaven were ringing! The two of them fell asleep in each others arms.

By morning, however, he was a wreck.

There was only one thing to do 3; suicide being a mortal sin 3; and that was to confess and be punished, maybe expelled from the order! He sought out Prior Bertram.

On his knees, he confessed, "Father Prior! I have sinned most grievously! I have despoiled the little one!" and he tearfully told him what had happened.

Bertram was not really surprised. He had seen it coming. His problem was how to salvage one of his most valuable brothers. "My son, you have not sinned!"

Tim thought he had misunderstood. "How can you say that, Father Prior? I abused the boy! I'm no better than the Thane! I am a monster! I am 3;."

"Your only sin, if it's that, is not being quiet and listening to what I have to say," Bertram interrupted.

"Forgive me, Father Prior."

Bertram went on, "I remember vividly a time long ago when my brother and I were still slaves at Chartwell. There was a new slave, Bobby. Yes, the father of Sir Daniel. He was lonely, frightened and had just been snatched from the only family he had ever known and had been told he could never go back to them. He was about Olaf's age and we took it upon ourselves to comfort him by introducing him to the mystery of sex. As I recall, he was a very apt pupil."

It took Tim some time to digest all of that. "But you were just kids, yourself. This isn't the same. I'm a man and Olaf is a child!"

"You're right, it is not quite the same. But we did so in love. Just as you did. We felt his need and we met it. Just as you did. Tell me something. Do you love him?"

Tim swallowed, and whispered, "Yes. With all my heart. I didn't realize how much until he was in my arms last night."

"Tim, he clearly adores you. You are his sun and his moon and his stars. He desperately needed to find an adult he could trust and he honored you with his trust. Can you imagine the chance he took last night? You might have thrown him out. Or beaten him."

"But you didn't and his faith in you was confirmed. I know, some churchmen would say I am wrong. , and then proceed to jump into the pants of every little boy they can lay their hands on. But I believe what the two of you did together last night was beautiful in the eyes of God. He wants us to love one another and express that love. And that is certainly what you did last evening. If you are worried about the other brothers, don't. All of them honor you for your devotion to Olaf. They've been asking for weeks, 'When is Brother Tim going to wake up?' I think you are awake now. You have a child to love who needs that love desperately. Something the rest of us can't give him. He's made his choice and we'll all try not to be envious."

Tim floated out of his prior's office. If you looked closely, you could see his halo. That night, Tim and Olaf made love tenderly, lovingly. Each was determined to fulfill the Lord's commandment.

But Olaf, to no one's surprise, was not a perfect child. He had a very real rebellious streak that manifested itself from time to time. Usually his defiance was over something minor and a stern word from Tim or one of the other brothers or a sharp smack across his naked behind was enough to set things right. But, one time, his rebellion almost cost him and one of the 'students' their lives.

On the seaward coast of the island a short distance from the monastery was a strange formation known as 'The Devil's Post-pile'. The brothers avoided the place as it was not certain whether Lucifer lived there or not. Tim knew the 'students' and their squire would come upon it sooner or later, so he resolved to show it to them and teach a geology lesson as well.

The sea had carved a number of formations some of which resembled the columns from a Greek temple. Several were wide enough to have a sparse carpet of grass on their flat tops, but most were much smaller, resembling a vast collection of posts standing on end. If one were agile enough 3; and foolish enough 3; one could hop from post to post, gain the top of one of the columns and look down on the frothing sea below. But the constant sea, carving away, occasionally caused one or more of the posts to topple.

The students and their squire were fascinated by them as was Olaf who had come along. After explaining the forces at work, both Tim and Squire Alan had admonished their charges not to attempt to cross to one of the columns; some of them were gradually crumbling and could not be trusted to hold even a young boy's weight. In fact, they were told, they should not even come to the site without an adult with them.

Several days later, the Olaf and the 'students' had a free afternoon. Most spent the time playing football [soccer] with some of the younger brothers. But Olaf and Sean were not among them.

When the two of them failed to appear for evening meal, Tim, Squire Alan and several of the brothers went in search of them. Playing his hunch, Tim made straight for 'Devil's Post-pile'.

He was right. There they were, marooned on the top of one of the columns, their 'stepping stone' having crumbled into the sea below.

It was fully dark by the time the brothers rigged a draw-bridge and managed to return the two boys to firm ground again. They were frog-marched back to the monastery, fed a cold supper and sent to bed. At Vespers, everyone gave thanks that a disaster had been averted.

The next day, the two miscreants were ostracized by all and made to sit in the chapel while their fate was being decided. It was agreed by all a breach of discipline of this magnitude called for stern measures. Squire Alan was adamant that Sean receive the traditional Chartwell punishment for disobedience, 'Naked Time'. After some considerable explanation to Father Bertram, he agreed. Tim would punish Olaf in a suitable manner.

Tim and Alan entered the chapel, where the two boys waited shivering and frightened. Tim had agreed to act as 'procurator' and pronounce sentence on Sean.

He addressed them, "Both of you are guilty of a serious breach of discipline. And you will be punished accordingly." Both boys hung their heads and nodded.

"Olaf, go to our cell and wait for me there." He fled weeping.

"Sean, you know what the penalty is for deliberately disobeying your squire is, don't you?"

Sean was shocked. They would do that here? In front of all these holy men? They couldn't, could they? They wouldn't, would they? At last, convinced by the grim looks on Tim's and Alan's faces, he nodded morosely.

"You will spend three days at 'Naked Time' to begin at breakfast tomorrow." Alan led the now crying teen away.

Entering his cell, Tim found Olaf standing in front of their bed with his head down, sniffling. "I was very bad, yesterday," he confessed.

"Yes you were! Olaf, do you know the agony all of us would have suffered if you and Sean had been killed?"

Olaf began to cry. "I should be punished! Hard!"

"And how should I punish you?"

"Well, my real father would spank me until I couldn't sit down and then spank me some more."

Tim was surprised. That was close to what he had decided, but he was heartened that Olaf suggested it. "Very well, strip."

When the little boy stood naked in front of him, it was all Tim could do to keep from wavering. He looked so sad and vulnerable, tears running down his cheeks.

"Over my knee." When Olaf had complied with his pink little ass in the air, "This is going to hurt!"

"I know!" came the sobbing reply. "But I deserve it!"

The weeping boy lying across his legs looked so defenseless! But Tim gritted his teeth and began. The first few cracks of his hand on the soft, warm flesh brought only whimpers. But as he continued, the whimpers turned to yells of pain and, finally, to deafening shrieks. Each one was like a knife plunged into Tim, but he knew he had to continue.

He stopped at thirty by which time Olaf was spewing snot and tears onto the floor and tears were running down Tim's cheeks as well. Taking the hysterically crying little boy into his arms, Tim comforted him and dried his tears. "Olaf, I love you! Never forget that!"

"I know!" came the tearful reply. "But, it hurts!"

Tim continued to hold him until he drifted off to sleep.

The next morning Olaf was eating breakfast 3; standing 3; when Squire Alan led Sean in, naked and restrained. The brothers present reacted with shock and indignation. Olaf stood transfixed with a look of horror on his face.

"Sean is being punished," explained Alan, "for being very disobedient yesterday. At Chartwell, we do not cane our boys or whip them. I am permitted to spank one of my squad for minor transgressions, but for serious breaches of discipline, this is our method of punishment. The boy has acted like an infant and he will be undressed like one and treated like one. One of his mates will have to feed him and care for him."

Sean stared at the floor and wept. He didn't at all like having to appear naked in front of these men. He was well into puberty and to make matters worse, he had a raging hardon.

Olaf continued to stare at him open mouthed. Then, he turned and buried his face in Tim's habit. "He shouldn't have to do that!" he wailed. "It's my fault! I talked him into it!"

"He could have said 'No' and refused to go with you," Tim reminded Olaf. "And then, you probably would not have gone either, would you?"

Olaf nodded and buried his head deeper. "Will he have to be that way all day?"

"Three days, actually!"

Olaf began to cry in earnest, forgetting the pain in his rear.

"My brother and I had to be naked for a whole week, one time," Tim told him. "In fact, our whole squad was punished. And there were girls and women who saw us that way. If you want to help him, just be kind to him and let him know you understand and are still his friend."

The brothers had accepted Alan's explanation and went on about their lives, albeit somewhat bemused at the Sean's discomfort. His mates, however, were furious with him; he had besmirched their whole group and they went out of their way to make 'Naked Time' as miserable for him as they could. In fact, both Alan and Tim had to warn the boys not to be quite so rough. It would be some weeks until Sean could regain their trust. By the time Sean had served his 'sentence', Olaf was sure Sean would have preferred the spanking over 'Naked Time' had he been given the choice.

For the next several days Olaf was very quiet; Tim could tell something was going on in that shaggy, blonde head. Finally, at bedtime, it came out. "Brother Tim, you punished me like my real father would have. I deserved every smack and it hurt! But what hurt even more was knowing I had disobeyed you. Made you angry and frightened for me. I would take a hundred spankings rather than that! Because I know you love me!"

He threw himself into Tim's arms. "Brother Tim, my real father is dead. Do you think, maybe? You might? I don't deserve it but would you, could you be my new father?"

For some reason, Tim tried to argue his way out of the inevitable. "But I'm not qualified to be your father. I have no experience raising a child."

"But you rescued me from death. You loved me even when I hit you and screamed at you. You wouldn't give up. And we love each other in bed every night. You're brave and strong and loving and I need you to show me how to be all those things. So I can grow up to be just like my Mom and Dad would have wanted. I have no one else. I don't want anyone else. I love you, Brother Tim. Please, be my Dad! Please?"

There was simply no denying him and Tim succumbed. But he told him, "Many years ago my mom read Robert and me a story by a writer by the name of A. A. Milne. It's about the love between a young boy like you and his best friend who was a bear named Pooh. In in it he tells Pooh, 'Promise me you'll always remember: you're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem and smarter than you think.' That's what I want you to do, my Son. Promise me always?"

"Oh yes! For ever and ever, Dad!"Olaf replied, his eyes shining.

A few evenings later, Tim and Olaf knelt during Vespers before the holy altar and pledged themselves, just as Tim and his brother had done with their father, Daniel, years ago. The next day, Father Bertram sent to Mull and had the adoption recorded with the civil authorities.

Olaf quickly demonstrated the wisdom of their decision; the rebellious streak all but disappeared and he became a very loving and obedient son, an exemplary student. He worked very hard and infected the entire community with a new spirit of devotion and happiness.

In July of that year, the Monastery received an infrequent gift 3; visitors. Archbishop Mikhail from Greece and his three grandsons. The eldest, Pytor, was Olaf's age and Alexander and Stephen several years younger. Their olive skins and black hair and eyes made them seem exotic. Olaf was assigned to entertain them while their grandfather conferred with Prior Bertram.

The 'students' were off with their squire for the day, leaving Olaf proudly showing his small guests all about the place, introducing them to many of the brothers and all of the sheep. Pytor spoke some English but his brothers did not. By supper time, the two younger boys were exhausted and were shortly afterward put to bed on pallets in Brother Ambrose's cell.

That night, the brothers celebrated a special Vespers in honor of their guests. Afterward, they all assembled in the great room for a reception of sorts. But Olaf and Pytor were absent.

Tim found them in the cell he and his son shared 3; Pytor would sleep there 3; lying together naked with Olaf's lips clamped firmly around Pytor's quite adequate prick.

They froze as Tim entered. Quickly assessing the situation, Tim told them, It's ok, guys. Just let me know when you're finished," and withdrew.

That night there were three naked bodies in their bed.

After the guests had departed the next morning, Olaf looked at his father sheepishly, "I guess we shouldn't have done that yesterday."

"Well, that depends how you got to that point," replied Tim, fearing Olaf might have been seduced. "Want to tell me about it?"

Olaf sensed his dad wasn't angry, just concerned. "Well we were just talking and he asked me if you made me do things in bed. I said that we have fun in bed but you don't make me do things. I want to do things. His dad makes him do things that hurt. I said you would never make me do something that I didn't want to do, 'specially if it hurt. He said he wished his dad was like that."

"I asked him, 'Did you ever tell your dad it hurts?' He said, 'No'. 'Maybe he doesn't know that,' I told him."

"He thought for a while. 'Well, he makes me suck him off, but never gives me one back, he told me."

"I asked him if he ever had fun with his brothers and he said they were too little. 'But Alex is getting pretty big down there,' he told me. I asked him if he would like to have a blowjob? He looked at me with his mouth open."

"You would do that for me?"

"So, after we played around a little and both got hard, I went down on him. He had just cummed when you walked in. Did I do wrong?"

"No, Olaf. But you need to be very careful. Some people 3; even boys your age 3; will try to take advantage of you and ask you to do sex with them, even if you don't want to. Remember, Olaf, your body belongs to you and no one has the right to force you to do something you don't want to. 'No thank you!' and 'I'd rather not!' are perfectly acceptable. If you are uncomfortable with the person, you need to leave at once and find me or one of the brothers."

"But suppose I wantto have sex with them?"

"Then, it's a matter of trust. Do you trust them and do they trust you. If you're unsure, let's talk about it. And, by the way, you never discuss the fun you have with another person. Not even with me or Father Bertram."

"Ok, Dad. You know best."

Olaf's terror and sadness had gradually abated but he still had times when his feelings for his lost family overwhelmed him. The effective 'cure' was to sit in front of the fireplace in the great room when the weather was cold or on the steps of the monastery if the weather was fine. Nestled in Tim's arms until the bad feelings passed. The dancing flames or starry heavens were good for both of them.

As they sat together, Tim often thought, 'How did God know I needed this little boy to feel like a whole person. I have been so blessed since he came into my life."

For his part, Olaf mused, 'It's great to have a father again, one who will love me forever. Tim's a lot like my real father except he listens to me. He asks me what I think and how I feel. I'm lucky to have found him."

"When you are grown," Tim asked him one night, "will you leave us and return to the land of your birth?"

Olaf was thunderstruck. How could his dad have thought such a thing? "Oh, no! I want to stay here with you forever. I want to be a Brother, too. I can, can't I? Will you help me?"

"Are you sure? There is a big wide world out there. Maybe you will be happier there."

"Dad, there is nothing I want more than to be here with you and the other brothers. That's all I'll ever want!"

They met with Father Bertram the next day, and Bertram listened thoughtfully. When Olaf had finished explaining what he wanted, the Prior turned to Tim. "This community has not had an acolyte in more than two centuries. I think, perhaps, we should have one, don't you?"

Olaf's eyes shone with happiness.

And, so it came to pass, on the night of his eleventh birthday, Olaf Pederson Crowell, son of Brother Timothy Andrew Crowell, knelt once more before the holy altar and took his vows as an Acolyte of the Abbey of St. Patrick on Iona.

2. Studies in England

In early June, just before the current 'students' were due to return to Chartwell to be replaced by a new group, Father Bertram called Tim to his office. "Have you thought much about the future, Brother?" he asked him.

"Yes. It's time we think about Olaf's education beyond what we can teach him here and 3;"

"No, your future, Tim."

"Well, I 3;"

"Tim, I want you to become my sub-prior." Tim was shocked. "I'm not getting any younger, you know, and this abbey will need to choose an abbot one day. I believe you are the one to pick up that mantle."

"I'm, I'm honored that you would think me capable," Tim stammered. "But surely there are others more deserving."

"Whom?"

"Well, Brother Cadfel or Brother Ambrose," Tim answered.

"Neither of them are nearly so well qualified and they would both hate the position. Besides, they are both my age. The abbey will need a young and vigorous leader when my time has run."

"Father Prior, I am honored beyond belief that you have chosen me and I will strive ever harder to live up to it."

"Good! Now we've got that out of the way, let me tell you what I have planned for you. I have made arrangements for you to spend a year at Westminster, studying under Archbishop Ramsey. You will serve as his Senior Deacon and learn all the details of administering an Abbey. And you will take classes at the seminary. When you have completed your studies, it will be time for your ordination."

Tim was floored! It was a golden opportunity 3; Ramsey was considered one of the finest churchmen in all of Christendom 3; and he very much appreciated his Prior's trust and confidence in him.

"But Father Prior," he asked, "who will care for Olaf while I am gone?"

Bertram smiled, "Thought I had forgotten him, didn't you. That's the other part of the deal. Olaf will go with you to England and become one of Sir Robert's boys, a member of one of the Squads. It's high time for him to be among boys his own age. He'll have the opportunity to go to school, too"

Tim was thrilled! It was a great opportunity for both himself and Olaf.

Later that night, when he told Olaf, the boy was a bit apprehensive at first. How could he possibly live up to the standards expected of a squad member? He had observed the 'students' and was awed by them. "Will I be a slave?" he wanted to know.

"Technically no. But you will be treated the same as every other boy is treated. You will live with them and be a full member of your squad." That seemed to satisfy him and he was soon engulfed by excitement.

When Squire Alan learned of the plans, he was ecstatic. "I shall ask for you to be assigned to my squad," he told Olaf.

Olaf needed some suitable traveling clothes and these were quickly found in Fionnphort. He looked very smart in them. Tim was outfitted in a new cassock and provided with a few casual things to wear. In less than a week, they would bid Iona goodbye and be off to Chartwell.

The Sea Hawk delivered all of them swiftly and safely to their destination. Olaf had never flown before and was enthralled by the seemingly endless landscape flowing beneath them. When they touched down, the 'students' and Squire Alan were first out of the aircraft to be welcomed home by their mates. It was, after all, their day.

As Tim and Olaf hopped down, Sir Robert, accompanied by Sir Daniel and Sir Arthur, hurried to greet them. It had been fifteen years since Tim had been at Chartwell and he noted with pleasure the improvements his brother had made. "It's been far too long," Robert told him.

"Do you think we'll have to train him all over again?" Daniel joked to Artie.

"No, I've brought you someone else, instead," Tim replied as he introduced Olaf.

The boy, at first, was a bit overawed by all these important persons. But he soon realized they were just regular folks, like his dad. The whole party adjourned to the manor house for dinner where he met Prudence; she was a lot like his Mom had been and they instantly were friends.

After dinner they all gathered in the family room. After some pleasant conversation, the subject turned serious. Sir Robert had earlier told Olaf to call him 'Uncle' and he had been pleased. "Come sit beside me, Olaf."

Olaf moved over and sat down and he put an arm around the boy's shoulder. "I asked you to call me 'Uncle' earlier today because you are my nephew. I wanted you to know that you are part of my family and, if you should ever need it, I am more than willing to care for you."

"Yes, Uncle. Thank you."

"But, in a few minutes, your father is going to sign a paper that changes all of that. The paper gives me custody of you for the next year while your father is studying in London. But not as your uncle. As your master! You will become a member of one of the squads here and live the same as the slaveboys. Do you understand what that means?"

"N-not exactly, Uncle," Olaf replied.

"It means you will be treated just like all the other boys," said Robert.

"W-will I be a slave, too?" asked a clearly nervous Olaf.

"No, but you will be treated like one."

At this point, Daniel spoke up, "You will be a member of one of the squads and must obey your squire without hesitation. If you don't, you will be punished. You will live with your mates, eat with them, sleep with them, go to school with them and be dressed like one of them. You will have to learn slave discipline. You will work hard and not be able to do some things you might like to. And, you will no longer call Sir Robert 'Uncle'. You will call him 'Master'. The fact that he is your uncle will mean nothing; you will be just like every one of them."

Olaf gulped! He had reached the point of no return.

"What do you think about all of that?" asked his father.

Olaf thought for a minute. "Some of your boys have been to Iona and seen the life we have there and I am proud to call them my friends. But now it's time for me to learn about their lives here at Chartwell. I will do my very best to be a good member of my squad. I want to make you all proud of me."

"Well said, Olaf!"

"Thank you, M-m-master."

"Now I know Squire Alan had sort of promised you could be in his squad, but I had to say no. He and I discussed it and we both agreed it might be a bit awkward since you have become good friends. Likewise, I felt you should not be in the same squad as Sean for the same reason. We want you to start the same as any other young boy who comes to us, so I have assigned you to Squire David's Squad. He's tough, but fair."

"I'm ready for what you think is best, Master."

Everyone nodded in satisfaction.

"Come, Olaf," called his father. "You have a very busy day tomorrow and I must be off to London very early. It's time for bed." And they excused themselves and left.

As they lay together in the guest room, the enormity of what was going to happen struck them both. "Oh Father, I'm going to be away from you for a whole year! A whole year!"

"And I won't have you to cuddle and warm my bed," replied Tim.

"I promise to be the very best slave-boy they have ever had. And you will be proud of me."

"I'm always proud of you, Olaf and I know you will be outstanding, here. It's not an easy life but it can be very satisfying and even a bit of fun. I will miss you, but I know you'll be in good hands. I'm just going to have to learn to sleep by myself again."

They didn't have sex that night; just held each other and slept.

The next morning, the squads were finished breakfast and waiting to be dismissed to their morning assignments, when Sir Robert strode into their dining hall. Trailing him were Daniel and Artie with a very nervous Olaf 3; He had already said a tearful goodbye to his father. Artie put his arm about the boy's shoulder to buck him up a bit.

Every slave immediately jumped up from his bench and went to his 'position'.

"Thank you, boys, for your greeting," Robert told them. "Now please return to your places and I have someone to introduce to you." In a few moments the hall was quite again.

"Most of you know that we had some visitors arrive yesterday. My brother Tim and his son Olaf. Those of you who have been to Iona have met them both. Brother Tim will be studying in London for a year and while he is there, Olaf will be staying with us. As a member of David's Squad." There was a noticeable buzz at that statement.

"While he is not legally a slave, he will live as a member of his squad just as all of you do. He is to be treated just like all of you are. That he is my nephew means nothing. He will call me 'master' just as you do. He must become one of you in every way. I know I can count on you to help him." There was much head nodding. "David, he's all yours."

David strode forward and Olaf took a deep breath and stood before him. "Welcome to my squad, Olaf."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Please remove your clothes." Olaf did as bidden and shortly stood naked before them all.

"Eric," called David, "please come and put Olaf's slave covering on him and lead him to his place." A boy 3; the newest and youngest member of the squad 3; came forward and took the garment from David.

Approaching Olaf, he said to the naked boy, "I'm going to have to touch you to get your boy parts in the pocket, ok?" Olaf nodded. He didn't mind and Eric was very gentle. Satisfied, Eric took Olaf by the hand and led him to the bench where the rest of the squad was sitting.

The squads were dismissed and filed out.

"Eric, please take Olaf to our quarters and show him where his bunk is. I'll join you in the common room shortly."

"Yes, Squire, right away." And he led Olaf away.

David made sure the rest of the squad knew where they were assigned and sent them on their way. He was about to leave for his quarters, when Daniel stopped him. "Just remember, he is not Sir Robert's nephew. Not for a year. Don't coddle him."

"When have I ever done that, Sir," asked an amused David.

"You never have," admitted Daniel, "I just don't want this to be the first time."

"I understand, exactly, what you're trying to do with this lad and I think it is brilliant. From what Alan has told me, he's a very special boy."

"As are they all, Squire. As are they all."

When David arrived at their quarters, he was pleased to find two boys in the center of their common room, in their 'positions', foreheads touching the floor. "Very good, boys. Now sit up."

"Olaf, Eric is going to be your mentor and help you get started. You must obey him and learn what he has to teach you. For today, you may speak to him, but no one else. Do you understand?"

Olaf nodded.

"Eric, by supper time, I want Olaf to understand and be practicing good slave discipline. You are both excused from other work, today. I'll have one of your mates bring you some lunch so you won't be interrupted."

"Yes, Squire. I'll get right on it," replied Eric.

"See that you do!" said David, trying to sound gruff.

After he had gone, Eric turned to a clearly terrified Olaf. "That's just an act he puts on," he chuckled. "He's really very nice and he takes good care of us. He's the best!"

That seemed to relieve Olaf somewhat.

They worked hard all day. Slave discipline really wasn't that hard, Olaf admitted. And by supper time, Olaf had mastered and was practicing the basics. Eric had been sure to lead him into situations he needed to demonstrate his new skills. After supper, David stopped them as they were headed back to their quarters. "Very good, Olaf! And, Eric, you've done a fine job. Two extra commissary points."

"Thank you, Squire. Olaf's a good student."

Back in their quarters, Olaf asked, "What are commissary points."

"Oh, that," replied Eric. "After you've been here six months, you earn points every day. It's like money. It's like you're being paid. The commissary is like a store where you can buy things. I'll show it to you tomorrow."

Olaf's bunk was right next to Eric in the cubicle they shared. Eric moved over and sat on Olaf's bunk and put his arm around him. He could tell, Olaf was having a hard time and missing his dad. "If you want," he offered, "you may sleep with me!"

Olaf considered for a minute. Eric seemed like a nice kid. And it was lonely. And he missed Tim. And 3; and 3;

Taking Olaf by the hand, he led him to his bunk, forced him to lie down, slid in beside him, pulled the blankets up and held him close. Olaf had been trying hard all day not to cry, but the floodgates opened and he balled like a baby with his head on Eric's chest. "Don't be ashamed," whispered Eric. "I cried every night for a week when I first came here."

Later, he asked Olaf, "Will you be my friend?"

It took Olaf only an instant to realize how fond of Eric he had become in just one short day. "Oh yes!" And they hugged each other and dropped off to sleep. He would later remember how fantastic Eric's naked skin had felt against his that first night. And it wouldn't be many nights before Olaf offered his body to his new friend. And Eric was quick to accept and reciprocate.

Mindful of his promise to his dad, Olaf threw himself wholeheartedly into the life of the squad, working hard and getting to know the other boys. They were a bit wary; he was, after all, the Master's nephew. But, his friendly, outgoing nature helped him to overcome that hurdle.

Tim, meanwhile, was very busy with his new responsibilities as Archbishop Ramsey's Senior Deacon. In addition, he was enrolled in Westminster Seminary learning all the things he would need to master before his ordination as a priest. He had little time to miss Olaf, but sometimes sleeping without that little body curled up against him made him sad. If only he could be at Chartwell, too!

At the end of Olaf's second week, Jeff 3; the senior boy in his squad 3; went to see Squire David. "Sir, I think he's ready," he told David.

"Really! It's a bit soon, but if you think he's ready, I won't object."

"Sir, he and Eric seem to be in some sort of a competition to see who can work the hardest. He's learned his slave discipline so well, he forces the rest of us to be a bit more careful."

"Then, go to it. Just remember he is not the Master's nephew, but don't be too hard on him."

"I will, Sir. But 3; 3;"

"But what?"

"Well, Eric seems to have found a best friend."

"Excellent! That's why I chose him to be Olaf's mentor. Eric needs a best friend and so does Olaf. So it has worked out as I hoped it would. But I can tell you are concerned."

"Yes, Sir. What are we going to do when Olaf leaves us in a year?"

"It will be hard for both of them, I know. You and the rest of the squad will have to help them."

Jeff rolled his eyes and replied, "I know, Sir,"

"Don't roll your eyes at me, young slave. Just do it!" David chuckled. "That's what I pay you all that money for."

Jeff knew David was just messin' with him and they both had a good laugh before Jeff left to get ready for Olaf's 'initiation.' And David made plans for the evening that would keep him away from their quarters. He trusted Jeff and the rest of them completely.

After supper, Eric took Olaf aside and told him, "We better sleep in our own beds tonight. They're going to initilate you."

"What's that?"

"Oh, it's a test you have to pass and then you'll be a real member of the squad. All new boys have to do it. I had to."

"What are they going to do to me?" Olaf asked nervously.

"I'm not allowed to tell you that, but it's nothin' that'll hurt you."

"Oh," replied Olaf, not at all sure.

Eric thought a bit, but finally decided to ask Olaf something, "Have you ever given someone a blowjob?" Their nightly fun hadn't progressed quite that far, yet.

"Why did he ask that?" thought Olaf. But, he nodded and Eric appeared relieved and hastily changed the subject.

It seemed strange to be in bed alone in the dark, but Olaf was tired from the day's labor. He had barely dropped off to sleep when he felt hands dragging him from his blankets. He was quickly blindfolded and gagged and his hands were fastened behind his back. "Don't struggle and we won't hurt you," someone told him as they carried him into the common room. To be sure he was scared, but he remembered what Eric had told him and relaxed.

He was forced to kneel on the floor and his blindfold and gag were removed. The room was dimly lit, but he could make out all his other squad mates gathered in a half circle in front of him.

Olaf," Jeff said to him, "you have done quite well since you have been here. We think you will make a good member for our squad. Is that what you wish?"

Olaf swallowed and managed to croak, "Yes."

"It's important," continued Jeff, "that we all know that you will be loyal to us. Are you willing to demonstrate your loyalty by drinking the seed of each of us?"

"Drinking the seed? That's why Eric asked about blowjobs," Olaf thought. He thought about what his dad had told him about being careful who he had sex with. But, spying Eric in the circle, he decided if Eric trusted them, he could too.

"Yes, I'm ready."

Jeff and all the others dropped their slave coverings and stood naked facing him. Every one of them 3; even Eric 3; was hard! Jeff walked to him and Olaf took his huge member in his mouth and began to suck and tongue it as the others watched intently.

After a few minutes, Jeff gasped, grabbed Olaf's head and plunged his tool deep into Olaf's mouth, almost choking him. He grunted and filled Olaf's mouth with his seed. Olaf swallowed and smiled up at Jeff. "That was very good!" Jeff told him breathlessly.

One by one, the other ten boys, with various and sundry squeals, gasps and moans, fed him their seed 3; well, a few of the younger ones didn't make boy-cream yet, but they enjoyed very intense dry orgasms. Last of all was Eric; he surprised Olaf with quite an adequate mouthful.

When they all had finished, Eric cut the bonds on his hands and helped Olaf to his feet. His jaw was a little sore, but otherwise he was fine, even invigorated. Each of the boys came forward and gave him a hug and welcomed him as a full member of the squad, before filing back into their sleeping area.

At last, he was alone with Eric and they stood looking at each other. "You, ok?"

"Yeah, it wasn't bad. I didn't know you could squirt, but you gave me a huge amount, almost as much as Jeff."

Eric just grinned, "I've been saving it for you. How did I taste?"

"Just great!" replied Olaf.

Eric then turned out the lights and led his friend back to his bunk. "Am I invited?"

"Don't ask such stupid questions," answered Olaf as he pulled his friend into his bunk. They lay holding each other for a minute and then Olaf felt Eric slide down and take his prick into his warm mouth. The good feelings began immediately and they took his breath away. "Oh, Eric!" he moaned as his peak built. Exploding into his friend's mouth, he seemed to pump boy-cream forever. Finally sated, he lay in a stupor as Eric sucked the last drop of sperm from his deflating prick.

"How was that?" asked Eric.

"Wonderful! Brilliant! Oh, Eric it was soooooo good!"

"I'm glad you liked it. I've been saving it for you 'til tonight." A few moments later, he whispered, "I love you, Olaf!"

"And I love YOU, Eric."

"Guess that means we're best friends!"

"Friends forever!"

The next morning, David stopped Olaf as they were about to go to breakfast. "Everything ok, my young slave?"

"Oh yes, Sir. Better'n ok. Stupendous!"

After supper that evening, Olaf and Eric sat talking. "How did you get to come here?" Eric asked him.

Olaf told him about his birth family, how they had been entranced by the Thane and he had almost been sacrificed on the altar but his mom had saved him and he and his father had fled to Iona where his father died.

"When Brother Tim first tried to comfort me, I fought him and screamed and hit him and it took quite a while before I understood he really loved me and wanted help me feel better. And, after that, I asked him to be my new father and he agreed and the Father Prior blessed us. And then, Master invited me to be one of you while Dad studied in London. And it's been the most exciting time of my life, here with you."

"WOW!"

"How did you come to be a slave?"

Eric bit his lip and started to weep.

"You don't have to tell me if it's too sad!"

"No one 3; none of the other boys knows. Not even Squire David or Sir Daniel or Sir Arthur. Only Master knows my story. But, I want to tell you! You're my best friend and I need to tell you!"

By this time Eric was shaking and all Olaf could do was to hold him. Finally Eric swallowed and began.

"My Mom died when I was six and my Dad took it real hard. After that, he started drinking and mostly didn't talk to me and he beat me with his belt most every day. He didn't want nothin' to do with me."

"He bought this girl 3; Jessica was her name 3; to take care of me. She started to do things with me, things that felt strange but good. I was too little to understand."

"One day Dad found the two of us lying together naked. He was drunk and he beat Jessica with his belt 'til he killed her. Then he started on me. Some neighbors heard me screaming and called the police."

Olaf had felt the scars all over Eric's back when they hugged. Now, he knew where they came from.

"They took me away from my Dad and sent him to prison. They sent me to slave school. One of the teachers there knew Master and told him about me and he bought me."

"When I first came here, I was scared of everybody. It was two months before I was initialated. And I almost blew it."

"When Jeff asked me if I was ready to drink their seed, I said 'No!' He and the rest of the boys were shocked and angry. And so was Squire David. What were they going to do with me? I had refused to be a member of the Squad."

"When I told Squire why the next day, he understood."

"Please Sir. They wanted me to give them blowjobs, but I don't know how and I was afraid I would hurt one of them."

"He made sure Jeff knew that and Jeff taught me how and the next night, I passed."

"But, I've never had a best friend until you came. And I feel much better now that someone knows." And he leaned against Olaf with his head in his lap and sighed. Olaf leaned down and kissed him.

And as the weeks went by, he and Eric became even closer 3; much more than just good friends. The whole squad seemed to be inspired by them.

In mid August, a huge storm lashed the midlands, bring with it sheets of rain and unseasonably cold weather. So cold, in fact that squads working out-of-doors wore their cold-weather gear. Unleashing a final torrential downpour, the storm moved off but the cold remained for a few days.

With the rain finally over, the squads had their hands full repairing some of the damage to crops and out-buildings. David's squad was assigned to check out the livestock in the north pastures. The rain had turned the usually placid stream that separated the pastures from the manor house area into a raging torrent. The bridge crossing it was already under two feet of swirling water and it seemed to be getting worse by the minute. Cut off from their assignment, the slaves milled about waiting for the flow to subside.

"Don't get too close," their squire admonished. "We'll just have to wait for the water to go down."

Eric was standing well back from the edge when the entire bank collapsed hurling him into the maelstrom. Weighted down by his cold-weather gear, he managed to surface once before being swept under the sunken bridge. When he did not appear on the downstream side, Olaf instantly stripped off his clothes and prepared to go after him.

"No, Olaf!" yelled Squire David. "Don't try it! It's too dangerous!"

Olaf paused for only an instant and dove into the swirling water upstream from the bridge.

It was icy cold but not quite as chilling as the North Sea surrounding Iona. He quickly located Eric, trapped against the bridge truss by the force of the current. With his last ounce of strength, he pulled him free and allowed the current to sweep them beyond the bridge. His mates at once formed a human chain and quickly pulled them both to dry land.

Eric wasn't breathing and Jeff immediately started CPR while the others peeled his soaked garments off Olaf and wrapped the shivering boy in their own jackets. By the time Dr. Nesbit and Sir Daniel arrived, Eric was coughing weekly, expelling water and mud, but breathing on his own.

Once he was sure Eric would recover, David turned his attention to Olaf. "Why did you do that? I told you not to! You could have been killed!"

Olaf looked up at his angry and frightened squire. "I had to! He's my friend! I couldn't just let him drown!" David had no reply to that.

The two boys spent most of the day in the infirmary, but by supper time they had put the frightening experience behind them and were ready to resume their normal life. Olaf was a hero to all his mates.

But David was troubled.

He sought out Daniel. "Sir, Olaf saved Eric's life. There is no doubt he would have drowned if he hadn't gone in. But he disobeyed me! How can I punish him for saving Eric? Yet 3;"

Daniel had been given a full accounting of the near tragedy as had Artie and Sir Robert. He knew what David was wrestling with. "I'm not sure. But, we better talk this out. Why don't you bring Olaf to the main house after supper. We'll meet in Sir Robert's sitting room."

David nodded and went off to supper. It was a quiet one; the story of Eric's near death and rescue had spread quickly as had the story that Olaf had defied his squire. Olaf got a lot of pats-on-the-back from the other slaves, but everyone seemed to be waiting to find out what would happen to him. Would they really punish him?

When Olaf and his squire arrived, Daniel, Arthur and Sir Robert were already there. It was the first time Olaf had been back in the house since his first day at Chartwell. Olaf immediately went to his position.

"You may rise, Olaf," Robert told him. "Why don't you come and sit here next to me."

Olaf sat down and gazed up at his master/uncle who smiled down at him and put his arm around him. "Well, my young slave, let me first say how much we admire your courage and how thankful we all are that you saved Eric. Loosing him would have been indeed a very sad thing. But, I'm afraid you have handed us a 'sticky wicket'."

"I don't understand, Master. What is a 'sticky wicket'?"

"It's a problem," broke in Daniel, "for which there is no immediate solution."

"Oh!"

"You saved young Eric," said David, "for which we are all grateful. But you defied me!"

"You don't understand, Sir," replied Olaf in distress. "He is my friend. I had to try to save him even if I died. I couldn't let him drown! Please, Sir, try to understand!"

"I do understand, Olaf," he told the boy gently. "And I'm proud of you!"

Olaf was more puzzled than ever.

"Let me tell you a story," began Daniel. "Many years ago when I was a young slave, my master 3; who was also my father 3; had gone with me to the park to play some football. As we were walking home, I heard a little girl scream in terror. The sound came from a house we had passed."

"Despite what my master said, I went to the little girl's aid and we managed to save her from a vicious man who would have killed her. But, for the only time in my life, I had defied my master. I have never felt so full of guilt and so sad since that day. He didn't punish me; I punished myself."

"He told me that I had made a choice between what he had told me and what I believed in my heart I had to do. He said there would be times in my life when I had to do what I believed was right despite what others told me. He called it 'being true to myself'. He also said I might have to pay a price for my action, but that was the cost of being a free person."

Olaf sat thinking for a while. "I knew I would be punished for disobeying my squire, but I had to try to save Eric. Is that what you mean by being true to myself?"

"Exactly! And I can well understand how much disobeying Squire David distresses you. Just like I did, I think you are punishing yourself."

Olaf got up and went to David, falling on his knees before him and tearfully asked him, "Please, Squire David, can you forgive me?"

"Yes, Olaf, I forgive you. And I think you made the right decision."

"Olaf," added Daniel, "I agree with your squire. And, if it was only you involved, I would not punish you further. But 3;"

"How can I explain this to him? How can I make it sound fair?" he asked himself.

Olaf rescued him, "Please Sir, I know you can't have the other boys thinking they can disobey their squires and get away with it without being punished. I know what the punishment is and I am willing to accept it. I know it is right and fair. Eric is alive and that is the most important thing to me."

The adults all stood with looks of amazement. Finally, Sir Robert spoke, "Are you sure this young man is but eleven years old? He understands things that many adults would not. Your father has certainly raised you magnificently and I am proud to be called 'Uncle'. Or at least I will be when your time with us is over. Go with my blessings, young slave."

Daniel heaved a sigh of relief. "David, please have Olaf wait for me when you and the others go to breakfast tomorrow. I will come for him and bring him to you."

The next morning, Olaf sat on his bunk waiting for Sir Daniel. He was a little scared but determined to be brave.

Daniel entered and immediately took Olaf into his arms. "I can't begin to tell you how proud I was of you last night. I really don't want to do this to you, but 3;"

"But you must! It wouldn't be fair if you didn't. I'm ready." And he slipped off his slave covering and held his hands behind his back so Daniel could cuff and secure him. "Please, Sir, may I tell the others why?"

Daniel thought for a minute, then answered "OK. I'll talk to them first and then you may. Come! The others are waiting.

When Daniel led the naked and restrained slave into the Dining Hall, there was instant uproar. Cries of, "Why is be being punished? It's not fair, he saved Eric's life. How can they be so cruel to him?" rent the air and several boys had to be forcibly restrained to prevent them from rushing to Olaf. It was the nearest thing they had ever had to a slave revolt.

Daniel was speechless; he knew the boys would be unhappy, but had not anticipated the depth of their anger.

Before he could recover, Arthur stepped in. "ON YOUR POSITIONS, ALL OF YOU! NOW!" he thundered.

In an instant, fifty-nine young asses of various sizes were pointed skyward and fifty-nine foreheads were on the floor as five white-faced and ashamed squires stood by.

"Thank you, lover," Daniel whispered to Arthur, "I lost it for a minute."

Then, he turned his attention to the sea of slaves before him. In a quiet, but deadly voice, he told them, "I don't want to see such behavior from you ever again! You are Chartwell Boys, not some rabble from the streets of Manchester or Liverpool. You are to sit up and remain quiet as I have a few things to tell you!"

"Yesterday, one of you was saved from drowning because his best friend deliberately disobeyed his squire who ordered him not to go into the water to try to save him. We are all very thankful that Eric was saved, but Olaf is being punished for disobedience. He has asked to speak to you to tell you why. You make take your seats again, but remain silent."

After all the boys and their squires had settled again, Daniel motioned Olaf forward. He walked to where Daniel stood and carefully to avoid loosing his balance, he sank to his knees and pressed his forehead to the floor. It was not quite proper as 'showing respect' was one of the privileges you lost while in 'naked time'. "You may rise, Olaf." As Olaf struggled back to his feet, Artie moved to help him, but Daniel waived him off. "Let him do it himself."

"All of you," Olaf began, "call me a hero. But I'm not! If it had been your mate who was in danger and you were the only one who could save him, you would have done the same thing."

"I knew why Squire David told me not to go in. He was afraid I might drown, too. I knew what the punishment for disobeying him was. But I decided I had to try to save Eric, even if I did drown. I would do it again 3; 3; and so would each of you."

"I will take my punishment gladly, proudly. Because, I am a Chartwell Boy, like each of you. And I know my punishment will be fair and I will be a better person because."

The hall was quiet for several moments. Then, without any prompting, every slave rose, faced Olaf, and dropped into their positions of respect. Nothing like that had ever happened before. "Tell them to rise," Daniel prompted him.

"Oh, yes. Please rise and thank you."

Placing his arm around his naked and restrained slave, Daniel announced, "The usual penalty for disobedience is at least seven days of 'naked time' but because of the bravery Olaf displayed yesterday, he will serve three days. I hope each of you will help him through."

And so Olaf began his punishment. Each of his squad mates clamored to be the one to take care of him, but Eric finally prevailed, and that made it bearable. He hated being fed, even by Eric. He hated having his nose wiped and his ass wiped. Worst was having to be helped at toilet; as soon as Eric touched him to help him, he immediately got hard. Every time he passed one of the other boys, they had pats on the back or a quick hug. Since he was forbidden to speak, he couldn't thank them for their kindness. He hated not being able to contribute to the squad's work assignments, too.

His daily shower was quite another thing, however. Eric's gentle hands washing the grime off him, felt simply fabulous. It was almost worth the shame of the rest of it.

It was generally accepted that slaves in 'naked time' had to sleep alone, away from the others in his squad. After carefully checking to make sure he wouldn't get Olaf in any more trouble, Eric wasn't having it. He carefully pulled Olaf on top of him and arranged him so they could both enjoy a hot sixty-nine. They spent the rest of the night with Eric's arms and legs wrapped around Olaf.

When David released Olaf at the end of the three days, he re-dressed him in his slave covering and took him in his arms. "You know, Olaf, I learned a lesson from all this too. I'm just sorry you had to suffer for it."

"It wasn't so bad, Sir. What did you learn?"

"Olaf, I should have realized you were going to try to save Eric no matter what. And I should not have forbidden you. I should have encouraged you. I should have said, 'Be careful!' I now know that if you had obeyed me, both you and Eric would have been lost. Eric would have drowned and you would have been devastated for the rest of your life."

"Thank you, Sir. You understood. I'm a Chartwell Boy and you are the very best Squire here."

The remainder of August passed without any special happenings, just hard work, as Olaf and Eric became even closer. But, one day in early September, Olaf was summoned to Daniel's office right after breakfast.

Arriving, he immediately went to his 'position'.

"You may rise," he told him. "I have a surprise for you."

"Yes, Sir. What is it?"

"Archbishop Ramsey has given your father a four-day holiday. Rather than spend it here with you he has asked if you could join him in London. He thought it would be less disruption than if he came here. Sir Robert has given permission, so your slave status will be suspended for a few days."

"Oh, Sir! That is wizard. How can I thank you?"

"Olaf," Daniel replied, "you have worked your little butt off since your punishment and I think you deserve a little fun. Eric will just have to get along without you for a few days. I think we might be able to keep the place running while you're away."

"When do I go?"

"Tomorrow morning, Artie will take you to Richmond and put you on the train and your dad will meet you at Paddington Station. Hmmm! We'll have to get you a few clothes; you certainly have grown out of the ones you came with. I'll have Artie pick up a shirt and shorts for you when he goes to town this afternoon. You certainly can't go to London in your slave covering. Better get you some shoes and sox, too."

"I'll have to ask Sir Robert about a few things for when he gets to London," Daniel thought.

That night, he lay with Eric and told him about his trip. He was excited and happy, but a little unsure about leaving Eric and he told him so.

"Nonsense!" said his bedmate. "Go and have a good time, you deserve it. Yes, I'll miss you, but it's only for a few days. Just give me a special good suck tonight and it'll last until you get back."

Olaf obliged him.

The next morning, Artie put him in a first-class compartment on the London Express and waved him good-bye. Since Olaf had no papers, they had thought it best to keep him away from the other passengers. He did have a travel certificate in case he needed it.

Olaf had never been on a train before and watched with fascination as the countryside rolled by just outside his window. As the train neared the London Suburbs, he was awed by all the people and cars and lorries headed into the city. At Clapham Junction, their only stop, he watched with interest as passengers boarded. Some of them had young slaveboys with them, boys his own age.

Arriving at Paddington, he left the train and stood searching in the crowd for his father. Once it thinned a bit, he spotted him. Tim was dressed in causal clothes, something Olaf had never seen before. Tim spotted him at the same time and they ran to each other for a tumultuous greeting.

"Oh, Dad," Olaf yelled, "it's so good to see you! I've missed you!"

"And I missed you, too", replied Tim. "But where is the little boy I left at Chartwell?"

"I guess I've grown a little," giggled Olaf. "They had to get me a few clothes to travel. Mine were too small. Here, this is for you." And he handed him the envelope Artie had given him as he left.

In the envelope, Tim found a hotel reservation at the Charles Dickens Inn on Lancaster Gate and a credit card. The note with it said, "Buy the boy some clothes and have some good meals. I think you'll like the hotel, it's quiet and the two of you can romp to your hearts content. Have a great time on me." It was signed simply, "Robert."

"Well!" said Tim, a bit overawed, "your master has directed both of us to have a good time. I guess we had better obey him. I don't want you to be in 'naked time' again." He had thought they would have to stay at the chapter house and eat refectory food.

"Oh," stammered the boy. "You know about that?"

"Yes, and I'm utterly flabbergasted by what you did. Robert told me what happened and what you said about being fair and I was so proud of you, I thought I would burst. But, come on, we need to check into the hotel and then we have some important errands to do."

The errands were the things they had to do so that Olaf could get papers that would officially allow him to be in England. He wasn't sure why this was important, but his Dad thought it was and that was enough for Olaf. So, they spent the rest of the day shuttling between the Norwegian Embassy and the Foreign Office, signing papers and swearing oaths 3; Olaf was too young, but Tim stood in for him. Some behind-the-scenes efforts by Archbishop Ramsey's office greased the skids a bit.

The result was, by the end of the day, Olaf had both his Norwegian Passport and a Student Visa good until he was eighteen. It did make him feel important. Between appointments they had visited Harrods and added to Olaf's minimal wardrobe: another shirt and shorts set and his first-ever blue jeans and North American style western shirt. He would certainly be a well-dressed slave when he returned to Chartwell.

After an early supper at a restaurant near their hotel, they stood in the center of their suite just holding each other. Olaf seemed nervous but Tim chalked that up to excitement.

"Olaf, it's just 3;just 3;so grand to have you here. To hold you in my arms again and feel your warm body against mine. I though it would be easy for me to be away from you, but it wasn't. I'll confess, the first few days I hardly slept at all."

He reached down and began to tickle Olaf. With a squeal, he jumped away. Tim gave a mock roar and moved toward the boy with his tickling fingers out.

"No! No! Not that!" shrieked the boy, backing away.

Tim advanced and Olaf fled. Around the suite they went shedding clothes, yelling like two first-form schoolboys. Several times Tim thought he had him, but Olaf giggled and wiggled his way loose. Finally he trapped Olaf in his arms, threw him down on the king-sized bed and proceeded to stimulate all the boy's ticklish spots.

Olaf let forth gales of laughter and tried to squirm out of Tim's grasp, but to no avail. So he switched to trying to tickle Tim. This had some effect 3; but not much.

After a while, they lay side-by-side gasping like a stranded whale and its calf. "I haven't had so much fun in ages," Tim assured his son.

"Well," giggled the boy, "I almost peed on you!"

They lay quietly for a while, just savoring the moment. Then, he began to stroke Olaf, just as he always did, reveling in the softness of his warm body and skin. But suddenly Olaf pushed him away. "Please, Father, stop! Please!" he blurted out in great distress.

Tim's heart dropped completely into his stomach. "Olaf! What's wrong?" he asked in panic.

"I need to tell you something," the boy wept.

"What?"

"Dad, I-I-I've f-f-found someone I love. And w-w-we've done things together! In bed!"

Tim's heart climbed back into his chest as he said, "You did? That's great!"

Olaf gazed at his dad in shock. "But I was afraid, I was afraid you might think I didn't love you any more! That I might not have enough love for both you and my friend."

Tim chuckled.

"Please don't laugh at me," Olaf bawled.

"I'm not laughing at you," Tim replied, taking Olaf back into his arms once more. "I was just remembering the time Robert and I had similar fears. Would we have enough love for our 'new' father, Daniel? He assured me we would and I never forgot what he told us."

"Olaf, you have more than enough love for all of us, I am sure. Love is something you never run out of. Love is who we are: you, your friend and I."

"Will you tell me about him? You don't have to if you're not ready to share."

"I want to! His name is Eric and he's such a neat kid." And he told him about Eric and how he had helped him through his first days as a slaveboy. And how Eric had come to Chartwell and had never had a best-friend before.

"He's the boy you saved from drowning, isn't he?"

Olaf nodded, tearing up a bit. "I couldn't let him drown. I had to try!"

"I know, Son. And I'm just so proud of you! Robert told me how you took your punishment. And how you're a hero to the other boys."

"Dad, any of them would have done the same thing. So, I'm not someone special."

"Olaf Pederson Crowell, you are special! You're special to me! And always will be. When I heard what you had done, at first I was soooo proud. But then I was frightened. All I could think of was 'What if you had drowned, too?' Olaf, if you had been lost, I don't think I could have gone on with life."

"Yes you would have, Dad, 'cause you're brave and strong. And I love you so much." By this time they were both weeping gently. It was a very emotional time!

"But you must remember something," Tim told him softly. "In a few short months, you will have to leave Eric and return to Iona. You can't stay at Chartwell."

"I don't want to stay at Chartwell. I want to go home and be with you and the Brothers," Olaf assured him. "Only 3; 3;"

Tim was sure what was coming. "Only what?"

"Eric wants to come with us. He wants to be a brother, too. He's never had a father who cared for him. Perhaps 3; 3; maybe 3; 3; y-y-you could be his father too?"

Well it was out in the open.

At first Tim was a bit put off. Was he just someone Olaf could peddle to whomever struck his fancy? Then he saw the tears of hope in Olaf's eyes and was deeply ashamed. His son loved him and loved Eric so much, he wanted Eric to share in that love.

"My dear heart," he addressed the boy. "Eric cannot go with us. At least not yet." Hope was replaced by disappointment.

"He is much too young to make such a commitment. And he 3;"

"But Dad, he's the same age as I am!"

"I know, Olaf. But you have lived at Iona. You know what our life is like."

"But I've told him everything about it. How we work hard and how rough it can be. And 3;"

"I believe you, but it's not the same as being there and living together."

Olaf was on the verge of tears again. All his simple plans had come undone. Why couldn't his father understand how desperately he and Eric needed each other."

"I believe I know what you are feeling. And I very much want to do what is best for both of you and for the Abbey. But there are several things that stand in the way. For one, he is Sir Robert's slave. But I feel sure he would let him go if he thought it was best. But he's a little young yet."

"Second, Father Bertram would have to approve and he probably would want to see how he adapts to our lifestyle before he did. Eric will get his 'time on Iona' in a few years and that will be his opportunity."

"That's years from now!" wailed Olaf.

"From what you have told me, my son, I believe you are truly, deeply in love. And that love will stand the test of time. Let me meet and talk with Eric when I come to take you home. I promise I will do whatever I can to make your wishes come true. But only if it is right for both of you! Trust me on this!"

Olaf knew about trust. After all, he had trusted Tim to be his father. He knew Tim would never break that trust and suddenly he was satisfied. "I will, Dad."

"So, is it ok if we put further discussion aside until then?"

"Oh yes," he breathed as he kissed Tim. "Let's just have fun on our holiday!" And they rolled together and resumed stroking each other until sleep took them.

But they were up bright and early the next morning, ready to be tourists. Marble Arch, Tower of London, London Bridge, the Palace of Westminster 3; where they saw the seat Sir Robert occupies when the House of Lords is in session.

Lunch was at the Charles Dickens Pub in Southwark. Yes, it's touristy, but a lot of fun. Olaf was introduced to 'bangers and mash' and 'spotted Dick' which he consumed with relish.

Author's Note: Bangers and mash – a traditional English dish made of mashed potatoes and sausages,
Spotted Dick – a steamed suet pudding containing dried fruit (usually currants) commonly served with custard

In the afternoon, they visited Westminster Abbey and St. Paul's and Olaf was properly awed. At Westminster, Tim introduced him to Archbishop Ramsey and showed him where he worked and lived. They both agreed that staying at the hotel was much nicer.

The next morning 3; Olaf decked out in his new jeans and shirt 3; they crossed the Thames where Shakespeare's Globe Theater was on the agenda. Along with the Changing of the Guard in front of Buckingham. After lunch at a Fish & Chips place they strolled along the Embankment enjoying the sun and watching the river traffic as Olaf munched away on a genuine four-dip ice-cream cone.

Suddenly Olaf said, "Dad, there's a little boy following us."

Tim looked where Olaf had indicated, and there was a child, barely more than a toddler, a short distance behind them. Naked except for a few strings about his waist, he seemed to be watching them.

They moved on a short distance and stopped. The child came a bit closer and stopped, too. They moved on again and the child moved with them.

"Do you think he's lost?"

"I don't know, but we'd better find a Bobby."

The child slowly approached them until he was only a few feet away. He was filthy from head to foot, but his luminous brown eyes registered both hope and fear.

"I think he's hungry. Let's see if he would like some of my cone." He held it out to the little boy, who hesitated and then moved close to Olaf, took the cone from him and practically inhaled it.

And promptly threw up all over the new jeans.

They managed to get most of it off, while the child clung to Olaf and bawled. He reached over and tugged on Tim's cassock. Olaf offered the child his hand and he readily took it and pulled him back the way they had come.

"Dad, I think he wants us to go with him." There was no Bobby in sight, so they allowed the child to lead them back along the Embankment until they came to a small opening leading to a narrow alley.

At the end of the alley, there was a door, partly open, the entrance to some sort of a shack. They stopped and the tyke began to mew and pull both of them toward the door. Throwing caution to the winds, Tim pushed the door open and they looked in.

The scene that greeted them nearly floored both of them.

On one side of the room, was a bed, occupied by a stout woman. She lay on her back with a wooden stake driven into her heart. The dried blood and odor testified that she had been dead for several days.

On the other side, were four pallets 3; three of them occupied by two boys about ten or so and a smaller lad about three. They were tightly stretched in spread-eagle fashion, their bodies filthy with vomit, urine and feces. Surprisingly, they were all still alive, but in very poor shape. What was puzzling were the numerous cloves of garlic scattered about their pallets

"I told you to find a priest." the oldest boy croaked to the toddler, who just screamed back, hoarsely.

"Well, he is a priest," Olaf assured him, pointing to Tim. "At least almost."

"Olaf, run and find a policeman. Keep looking 'til you find one."

"No!" screamed the other older boy. "They'll beat us!"

"You sure you're going to be all right, Dad?" Olaf asked.

"Yes, now please hurry. And I promise the police will not harm you," he told the four.

Olaf dashed off and Tim approached the oldest boy and began to loosen his bonds. "Will you tell me your names?"

"I guess it don't matter. I'm Matthew and that's Mark, Luke and John," he said, pointing to the others in turn. "That used to be Mum," he indicated, "but I recon she ain't alive no more."

"Just lie quietly," Tim told them, "until we get you some medical help. They looked at Tim carefully, but decided maybe they could trust him. John climbed back on his pallet and lay down.

He had just finished untying Luke, when Olaf arrived with one of the Metropolitan Police who surveyed the scene briefly before calling for medical backup. "Oh Lordy! Someone really believed that drivel that she was a witch and the boys were vampires."

A Chief Inspector arrived and took down everyone's statements. As the story was pieced together, persons unknown had forced the woman to tie the boys before being brutally stabbed. The four boys were 'disarmed' by the garlic and left to starve to death. "Ole Bess dressed the kids like Gypsy kids and sent them out to beg," the Inspector told Olaf and Tim. "We didn't bother them as the tourists seemed to be amused by them. Actually, they probably made a pretty good living, but we don't think they were really Rom."

There was quite a bit of money in the shack, so robbery was not a motive. "Plain ignorance," was the Inspector's opinion. With the authorities' permission, Tim said a few prayers for the departed and made sure each of the boys could say a tearful goodbye. The youngest, John, had not learned to speak yet and just bawled.

By that time, the medical team had examined each child 3; not without some difficulty 3; and were ready to take them to hospital. That they were terrified to the point of being rigid and mute was not surprising. "I'll ride with them," asserted Olaf. Tim knew better than to try to dissuade him, so he climbed aboard the ambulance and was off to St Swithins.

Tim and the Inspector talked for a few minutes. "We'll have to put them into care," the Inspector told him. "Shame, really! They're nice kids. I've talked to them from time to time. They weren't hurting anyone. 'Course they weren't getting any schooling, but they probably didn't need any."

Tim was shocked and mystified at the cavalier attitude of the officials. "Was this how kids in need were treated?" he asked himself. "No wonder his brother had worked so tirelessly to make Chartwell a place of refuge."

The official's attitude reminded Tim of another time, many years ago, just before he and Robert had been entered in the Chartwell 'program'.

The family had driven into Reading for a last 3; unknown to either Tim or Robert 3; day together. Tomorrow would be the twin's ninth birthday and 3; 3;

Keeping the family van shined and spotless was one of the 'plum' assignments given to a deserving slaveboy. But that day Sir Marcus decided to try out a new invention that had just been opened in the city, an automatic car-wash. The proprietor, a Mr. Tinsmith, recognized the Earl and gave them a thorough tour. They could actually watch their car being cleaned by high pressure jets of hot water and soap, rinsed and dried by hot air.

Intrigued, Marcus attached the car to the moving belt that pulled it through the building and the family all gathered to watch. Elizabeth decided to wait in the lounge where it was cooler. Directly behind them, a small red lorry [truck] pulled in and the twins went to check it out.

To their surprise, there were two young slaves in the bed securely fastened to seats. Except for plastic hoods that covered their heads, they were naked. The driver attached the lorry and moved toward the building.

"Hey, Mister," called out Robert, "you forgot the two kids in the back."

"Nah! They'll be fine. Gets them clean as a whistle. No use wasting hot water and soap at home."

None of them could believe what they had just heard!

"You mean you are going to put them through the wash?" asked Marcus.

"Right you are. Them's just slaves."

The twins and their Dad lost all interest in their vehicle and stood gaping at the lorry as it began its transit.

The jets of water struck the slaves with force enough to almost blister their skin and they began to scream. They were slapped from side to side, front and back and began to choke; the hoods apparently did not keep out all the water. Their skins were red before they reached the drying area. When they emerged from that, they looked like an advanced case of severe sunburn and were clearly unconscious.

The driver got back in the truck and drove away without even checking on the condition of his two slaves.

The twins had cried all the way back to Chartwell. What they had seen and heard simply lent more credence to their recurring nightmare 3; that they might someday be slaves. Unknown to them, the next day, that nightmare would come true!

The Inspector dropped Tim at hospital and he went in search of his son. The nurse informed him that they had been singularly unable to get the four ragamuffins into showers until Olaf had volunteered to take them himself. He had finished three of them and was working on the fourth and smallest.

Once they were fed some simple food and put to bed, they were soon sleeping soundly.

Hair still damp from eight scrub and rinse sessions 3; the 'gospel kids', as they would come to be known, needed soap and brush to be rid of successive layers of grime 3; he was worn out from the effort. "They had no idea what a shower was," he told his Dad. "They're frightened out of their minds. The soup was drugged so they'll sleep, but what will happen to them?"

'Well, they'll be put into care just like your Eric was. Until someone buys them and agrees to raise them."

The wheels began to grind in that blonde head, but he said nothing to Tim. Their night was calm and peaceful in contrast to their brouhaha of the night before. "Actually," Tim told him, "if we make that much noise tonight, the innkeeper will probably throw us out." Olaf accepted that with uncommon grace and they were both soon asleep.

Olaf insisted they go to hospital the next morning. Tim really didn't want to spend their last day there, but Olaf was adamant. They arrived to find the place in an uproar with four young boys trying to fight off the Child Welfare people. Evidently, they had been told they would be enslaved. Big mistake, as they had been taught that being a slave was the worst possible thing that could happen to them and would be nothing but pain and suffering, leading to a quick death.

At the moment, the 'gospel kids' were winning, having barricaded themselves in a supply closet.

"Dad, we'll have to take them to Chartwell. Otherwise, they'll go crazy or kill themselves or something else bad." He had it all figured out. "There's room in my squad for Matthew and Mark, but we'll have to figure out something for Luke and John; they're too little yet."

"If the world were just willing to sit back and let Olaf handle things," thought Tim.

But, unfortunately it was not.

At the mention of 'Chartwell' the Child Welfare Chief 3; his name was Tony Ware 3; brightened. It turned out he knew Sir Robert 3; they had been college roommates 3; and had placed a number of 'difficult' cases with him. "One memorable little chap was named Eric Kiscaden," he told them.

"See, Dad! Let's call Master and ask him?"

"Is he one of Robert's boys?" asked Tony.

"Yes, I'm a Chartwell Boy and my best friend is Eric. Dad, can we call Chartwell right now?"

What was Tim going to do? Say, "No?"

After a short conversation with his brother, Tim handed the phone to Olaf. "Go ahead! Tell him what you want."

"Uncle 3; oops, I'm sorry and should be punished. Master, we have found four boys who will die unless they can come to Chartwell. Please, Master, please! I'll do anything! Even do a week of 'naked time' for being so impertinent!" At Sir Robert's direction, he handed the phone back to his Dad.

"Has he done anything to warrant punishment?" the Earl asked his brother.

"No. Just a bit of oversimplifying." And he went on to explain what had happened.

"Is Anthony Ware with you?"

"Yes."

"Let me talk to him."

Tony and Sir Robert talked for most of an hour as they discussed the four boys and what would likely happen to them. "It's going to be virtually impossible to avoid separating them, unless they're picked up by a mine or brothel," Tony confessed to his friend.

"By damn! I will not let that happen," exploded Sir Robert. He would only later admit how Ware had manipulated him. "How soon?"

"Right away," Tony answered, mindful of the growing frustration of the hospital staff.

"Fine! I'll send the medivac first thing tomorrow."

Turning to the Charge Nurse, Tony said, "You'll have to keep them overnight."

"That's all well and good, Sir," she replied. "But how do I get them out of the supply closet? There are dangerous drugs in there!"

"Let me talk to them," said Olaf and he went off to see if he could get the 'gospel kids' out of their lair.

Tim took up the phone again. "Better send both Daniel and Artie. These kids will be a handful, and I can't leave because I must go back to work tomorrow. Oh, and you better send Pru. Two of the kids are quite young and need some mothering badly."

"My crazy, brother! What have you gotten us into?"

"You heard Olaf. He can be pretty persuasive. Actually, these kids are going to be a tough case, but I agree with Olaf. If Chartwell doesn't take them, they will probably have a short, unhappy life. I will pray for you."

"Thank you, Tim. We'll probably need it."

Meanwhile, Olaf had had some success with the fugitives. "Please, guys. No one is going to hurt you. We have some food for you and a place for you to sleep tonight. Tomorrow we're going to take you to a place called Chartwell. That's where I live and there'll be lot of boys your own age and you'll be taken care of and go to school and learn how to build things and play football 3;" He had pretty well run out of his list of the charms Chartwell would hold for them. He studiously avoided the mention of slavery.

After a while, little John was sent out. Recognizing Olaf, he made a beeline for him and threw his small, scrawny arms around him.

"Hi, John! We're friends, right? Do you think you can get the others to come out?" John just held onto him and cooed. Matthew had been watching through the keyhole and, when nothing bad happened to John, they all sheepishly filed out of their redoubt. He knew first hand what would happen to them if they were put out on the streets; he had seen several of his friends beaten to death.

They sat on their beds and listened while Olaf told them more about their new home. "It's a place where you'll have lots of friends. You'll have to work to help take care of the place, but you'll always have enough to eat and you will never be beaten. You'll have a warm, safe place to sleep and be part of a group called a squad with a leader called your squire. You'll be in my squad and our Squire David is the best." He had fudged a bit; they had no idea at present how they would care for Luke and John.

Tim came in at that point and announced, "It's all settled. Tomorrow you'll go to a place called Chartwell and begin a new life, hopefully a better, happier life." They recognized Tim as the one, along with Olaf, who had rescued them.

"I've been telling them all about Chartwell," said Olaf. "I think they will be happy there."

Matthew and Mark had identical thoughts, "Maybe it'll be ok! Olaf thinks it is, so maybe it will be."

Tim and Olaf both stayed the night with them, comforting the four boys who were still very frightened by what had happened to them.

Bright and early the next morning, the medivac 'copter settled on the roof pad of the hospital.

"Good morning, Squire," Olaf greeted him bowing low as he jumped down. He was followed in short order by Sir Daniel, Sir Arthur and Lady Prudence. They spent a good hour with the four boys, getting acquainted with them. Matthew and Mark had decided to accept the situation 3; for now.

Pru immediately solved the problem of the two pre-schoolers. She would take them into the Manor House and she and Gretchen would care for them. That way, they could see their brothers every day and get the care 3; mothering 3; they needed. "I'm going to have grandchildren," she quipped. The rest hoped she would not spoil them too badly.

Getting the four 'gospel kids' into the copter took quite a bit of persuasion. Only after repeated assurance from Olaf that it would not devour them or fall out of the sky, were they able to get them in and belted down.

They were about ready to go and Tim and Olaf stood quietly holding each other. "It's been wonderful, Son. You're sure you're ok with all this?"

"Oh, yes Dad!" he replied, hugging Tim even harder. "Eric will help me. And I will remember this time together with you all my life."

"Come on, young slave," David yelled from the hatch. "There's work to be done and you have two new boys to get started." Olaf gritted his teeth; he hoped the boys hadn't heard David use that term. Somehow he knew that formal enslavement was going to be a very, very big hurdle for these kids.

Tim watched the 'copter disappear in the distance and sighed. "Well," he told himself, "it'll only be a few short months."

Those next few months were the most exhausting Olaf and Eric had ever experienced. Matthew and Mark had had drilled into them since birth that being a slave was the most degrading thing that could happen to them. Slaves were the lowest form of life, well below snakes and cockroaches and they were NEVER going to be slaves. The were willing to do their share of the work 3; in fact they were downright eager to learn 3; but they absolutely refused to abide by slave discipline and went naked rather than wear the slave coverings. They were generally respectful to the other boys, but could not bring themselves to become one of them.

Some of the older boys seemed to understand, but it angered all of them to be snubbed by these 'ungrateful twits' and made to feel the lowest of the low. At night, Matthew and Mark slept together; that at least afforded Olaf and Eric some respite from the almost impossible task they had assumed.

Luke and John, on the other hand, were securely happy with Pru and Gretchen. John had started to talk, both boys had been potty trained and were eager to help with the simple tasks Gretchen gave them around the house. Sir Robert and Squire Andrew watched the new 'grandsons' grow with fascination and Gretchen even took on a sort of bloom of motherhood.

The arrival of winter put an end to Matthew and Mark's undressed state. They had nothing to wear but the same sweatsuits the others wore. But the situation frustrated Olaf and Eric beyond their capacities to deal with it and they had many 'therapy' sessions with Squire David and Daniel where they could unload and vent. It was a learning experience for the whole company.

Finally, one evening at supper after a particularly hard day, Eric blew his top. "Are you trying deliberately to hurt us?" he screamed at them in front of the entire company. "You think you're better than the rest of us? I came from the same streets you did and I am proud to be a slave here; proud to be a Chartwell Boy. Fifty-seven other boys want to be your friends, but you mock them. Well, you're not better! You're scum! And you'll be scum until you decide to stop acting like spoiled twits and start to be one of us. I know I'll be punished for what I just said and I'll take it gladly. But I'm not sure you're worth it. You're just scum! Bloody street rats!" Such an outburst would bring a few days of 'naked time'.

Matthew and Mark, white with fright, looked about the hall and, at last, saw the looks of disgust on all the other young faces. Daniel and Artie watched over them through the night to be sure the two didn't do something really stupid like running away. If they had, they would have been subject to the Fugitive Slave laws.

Eric served his two days showing the same pride and resolve that Olaf had and Olaf was never more in love with him than while he cared for him.

But, for the first time Daniel and Artie started to consider whether they could ever save these boys. They and Squire David, concerned for Eric and Olaf, questioned both of them one morning. "Have we tried to do something that just won't work? You have tried mightily, but you don't seem to be getting anywhere. It's not your fault, God knows. Perhaps we must face reality and send the away?"

"No, please, Sir! We'll make it work!"

"Olaf, I don't want to send you back to your father a basket case."

"Sir, if you had seen them tied to their bunks and left to die 3;"

"All right," sighed Daniel. "But please, please don't blame yourselves."

"We won't, Sir. As long as we have each other, we'll be ok."

But the dam had finally been cracked. Matthew and Mark began to be a bit more cooperative and even addressed Squire David, Sir Daniel, Sir Arthur and Sir Robert as 'Sir'. But they still would not assume their 'positions of respect'. One day while they were working in the pasture, two of the older boys in another squad, caught them, forced them to their knees and pushed their faces into a fresh cow-flop. For which they lost their commissary privileges for two months.

The message was pretty plain. For Matthew and Mark and the punished boys. They made fleeting attempts to become friends with the others in their squad, but only Olaf and Eric responded.

Finally, after supper one night, there was a knock on Daniel's office door. "Come in," he responded and was astounded to find Matthew and Mark in front of him in their 'positions'. "You may rise," he told them.

Matthew handed him a supple willow branch he had been carrying, and the two bent over and grasped their ankles, pointing their pink little asses directly at Daniel. "Please beat us, Sir," they said in unison.

"Stand up and face me," Daniel ordered. He broke the willow branch over his knee and told them, "We do not beat our boys! You have been told that before. There is nothing you could do that would cause us to beat you."

"Even if I killed one of the boys?" ventured Mark.

"No, not even then."

That question intrigued Daniel. He had never thought about it before. A day or so later, he asked Sir Robert what would happen if they suddenly had a murderer in their midst.

"God forbid that should ever happen," he replied, "but we would have to put him down. They are slaves and the law is quite explicit. We would do it as humanely and painlessly as possible, but still 3; 3; Wait a minute! You don't suppose???????"

"No, no, Sir. They asked if they would be beaten if they killed another boy. I told them no. But I would stake my life they are not potential murderers."

"But why? That's what our Ma did when we were bad. And we've been bad for months."

"And did the beating stop you from doing whatever it was that you were being punished for? What did you learn other than that she could beat you up?"

The two boys stared at the floor. "That she loved us," whispered Matthew.

Daniel got up and took them into his arms. "Here at Chartwell, we believe that every one of our boys 3; even you two 3; has some goodness in them just waiting to blossom like a flower. It's our job to show each one we love them and help that flower to bloom. Sometimes it takes a long time, but we will never give up. And, eventually, love will win out."

The three of them sank to the floor and the boys began to cry. Deep gasping sobs: for the death of their Ma; for the pain they had caused Olaf and Eric; for the opportunity that had been given them and they had been too proud to accept. "It's not too late guys," Daniel told them. "It's never too late."

"Do you think so?" Matthew asked through his tears. "How can we show were sorry?"

"Why don't you try saying 'I'm sorry'. You can do it at breakfast."

The next morning as they were finishing up, Daniel arrived. After the boys had recovered from their 'positions' he asked them to listen carefully. Calling Olaf and Eric and Matthew and Mark front, he asked the two 'gospel kids' if they had something they wanted to say to their mentors.

They immediately want to their 'positions' facing a very surprised Olaf and Eric. "Sirs, may we speak?" At a nudge from Daniel, Olaf gave ascent.

"Sirs," said Matthew, "Eric was right! We have been scum. Worse than scum. You have been kind and patient. And we have been full of hate and mocked you and all the other boys. But, last night Sir Daniel told us about love. He said that love always wins."

"I know that we don't deserve it," continued Mark, "but could you find it in your hearts to teach us how to be Chartwell Boys? Maybe it's not too late?"

In answer, Eric and Olaf leaned down and pulled them to their feet and led them back to their places. The whole company heaved an enormous sigh of relief. Two weeks later, they underwent 'initiation'.

Tim's arrival at Chartwell in early June marked the close of Olaf's time there. In a few days they would begin their journey homeward along with the five boys and their squire who would replace the ones whose 'time on Iona' was ending.

True to his promise, Tim sat down with Eric. "Well, my young friend, I understand you have stolen my son's heart."

"Oh, no sir," replied the boy in panic, dropping once more into his 'position' from which Tim had released him only a few moment ago. "It's still there! I didn't take it!"

"Please come and sit with me. It's a figure of speech that means he has fallen in love with you. And I think it's great that he has. How do you feel about him?"

"He is the first best friend I have ever had. And I loved him from the moment I first saw him. And we love each other so bad that my tummy hurts sometimes. He almost drowned when he saved me and then he was punished for it. I took care of him when he was in 'naked time' and it was the most best thing I have ever done."

"Why don't you tell me how you came to Chartwell."

And Eric obliged, leaving nothing out; not the sorrow, not the terror of his birth home. Not the hope and comfort Chartwell had brought. Not the spark that Olaf had kindled in him and not the anguish of their soon-to-be separation. "Please Sir, Olaf has told me about your life on Iona. I want to be a part of that life. So I can grow to be brave and kind and loving, just like he is. So I can be with you, 'cause he told me he learned those things from you."

Tim climbed down off the boy's pedestal with some difficulty. "Thank you for sharing all this with me, Eric. I think Olaf made a very good choice for his best friend."

He sent Eric back to his squad and spent the next several hours with his brother, Daniel and Artie. When he crawled into bed long after midnight, there was a little warm body already there, but Olaf slept uninterrupted.

The next evening, Tim asked to speak to the two boys together.

"Olaf, I want to say, and I want Eric to know, that I am absolutely sure you made a very fine choice for your best friend. And, Eric, I feel very honored that you chose my son."

"Yes, tomorrow we will leave Chartwell and you both already know Eric cannot go with us."

Tears began to run down two sets of cheeks, despite their attempts to be brave.

"But, I believe your desire to be one of us is genuine, Eric and so I, with your master's help, will do what we can to make your wish come true. It is too late for you to come with the 'students' this year. But a year from now, if you still wish it, Sir Daniel will see that you are on the list, even though you are still several years young. You will live with us and experience first hand what our life is."

"Once you have completed your 'year on Iona' and if you still wish to dedicate your life to our community, I will speak to the Father-Prior on your behalf and I am sure he will invite you to become an Acolyte of the Abbey of St Patrick on Iona. Immediately upon your acceptance, Sir Robert has agreed to free you. And I shall be proud if you would still want me as your new father."

Both of them mobbed Tim, drowning him in hugs and kisses. When they had recovered and were just two mostly naked boys in his arms, he told them, "Go and enjoy your last night together."

The two boys looked at each other. "C-c-c-could w-w-we s-s-spend it with you?" stammered Eric. Try as he could, Tim could find no valid reason to say no.

That evening Eric gave Olaf a small, silver Celtic Cross to wear on a chain about his neck. In design, it was just like the one which stood on the holy altar in Iona. Eric had spent his entire accumulation of commissary points for it and Robert had it engraved, OLAF AND ERIC FOREVER. It served as a constant reminder of their love and Olaf's vows as an acolyte. He would wear it next to his heart.

The next morning, outfitted in their trekking clothes, as they were preparing to board the van which would take them to the start of their trek homeward, Squire David and the Squad came to see them off. Sir Daniel appeared and read to them the proclamation Sir Robert had issued.

THE EARLDOM OF CHARTWELL

Be it known by all that on this date, Olaf Pederson Crowell has been freed from his bondage of slavery and returned to the care and protection of his father, Brother Timothy Andrew Crowell, late of the Abbey of St Patrick on Iona, there to resume his station as Acolyte of said Abbey.

Done in the Earldom of Chartwell on this Fourth day of June in the year of our Lord two-thousand fifty-six and of the reign of our sovereign William, the forty second.

Robert
Earl

When he had finished, the eleven remaining boys in the squad went to their positions and declared in unison, "We greet you Olaf as a free person and worthy of our respect."

"Please rise," answered Olaf. "I greet you as my friends. I will always be proud that I am a Chartwell Boy."

As they climbed into the van, one of the squad gave a little wave. "It would only be a year," he thought.

3. Hostages

Unfortunately, the addition of Tim and Olaf to the company seemed to convert it to a lark, a situation that concerned Tim. Olaf mingled with the other boys all too freely while Tim tried very hard not to overshadow Squire Paul. But it might have been better if he and his son had returned to Iona another way.

Fearing things might be getting off to a bad start for them, Tim finally decided to take matters in hand the last night they camped just south of Caldbeck, a place he remembered vividly for the disaster that had almost befallen them on their trek.

It had started out as a now routine night; the boys were lounging around their campfire, laughing over the days activities, when Tim suddenly shouted, "Slaves! On your positions! NOW!"

After a moment of shock, the boys, including Olaf, complied, leaving Squire Paul, standing there with his mouth open.

"All right, you may sit up and listen to what I have to say." They sat up and looked at Tim nervously. He beckoned Olaf to sit beside him. "Remember," he told his son, "you are not subject to slave discipline any longer!"

"Yes, but I thought you merited my respect. I could tell you were very concerned."

Good! He understood.

"I'm sorry for stepping in like that, Paul, but things are getting a bit out-of-hand. It's not your fault; we've all let things slip. We've all had a lot of fun these past few days and Olaf and I have enjoyed traveling with you. But, perhaps, things have been a bit too cheery and we've all lost the significance of what we have been doing." Some of the boys nodded.

"This place is near where Robert, Daniel and I camped. Although we were on edge, afraid our whereabouts might be discovered any time, we had become a bit complacent. It almost cost us our lives; it did cost another man his."

"I killed a man that night; shot him with both barrels of a fowling piece. It's an act I think of often. He deserved to die and if he had not 3; Well, the Chartwell you and I have come to love would not exist. Some of you 3; and Olaf, too 3; would probably be dead and Sir Robert and I would be in prison, somewhere, if not worse."

"I tell you this so you might think about the importance of the journey we take."

"In two short days, we will be on Iona and your lives will fundamentally change. I know Olaf has tried his best to tell you about our lives there and I am constantly surprised at his understanding of the deeper meaning of our lives. You will work harder than you ever thought possible, for ours is a hard life. You will study things you perhaps never thought about. But you will come to know a peace and contentment that is unique. It is the hope of Father Bertram and all of us that peace and contentment will follow you back to Chartwell and enrich your lives forever."

Olaf saw where I was headed and added,"I have been your mate and friend and will always be your friend. But I am a free boy and I will have work to do when we get home. So, I won't be able to be with you all the time. We'll have some classes together and there will be time for fun, but my Father is right. Your lives will be very different."

"You'll not have slave discipline," Tim added, "but I know you will treat all my Brothers with respect, just as you do me. I hope your arrival at the Abbey of St. Patrick on Iona will be in a spirit of joyous adventure. Will each of you accept a hug from Olaf and me?"

They all did, including Squire Paul.

The Community received them all with joy. Tim tried his best to keep their welcome home from overshadowing the welcome of the new 'students'.The returning 'students' were somewhat sad to be leaving, yet excited to be going 'home' with a deeper understanding and commitment to the spirit of Chartwell.

Both Tim and Olaf had a lot of catching-up to do and Olaf saw little of the boys and their squire for the next few weeks. That would change as he rejoined some of their classes 3; especially those with Brother Ambrose 3; but his training under Father Bertram had begun in earnest, too. Tim spent much of his time conferring with the Father-Prior in preparation for his ordination and formal appointment as sub-Prior. He would resume his teaching duties with the students in a few weeks after they were more acclimated to the rigors of Iona that were suddenly thrust upon them.

So Olaf and Tim's bedtime fun was curtailed; they were simply too exhausted at the end of their busy days to do much more than hold each other. But, finally, Olaf rebelled.

They had suddenly found themselves with a 'free' afternoon and Olaf loudly complained, "You have been neglecting me!"

"I know, little one. And I promise to make it up to you tonight in bed."

"That's not what I meant. We've been back for almost a month and we haven't once gone to the hot springs. It's cruelty to a young son!"

"Ok! Guilty as charged!" chuckled Tim. "Let's see if the class can be excused from their potato planting exercise and we'll all go." The warm pool soon resounded to the shouts of boys and their Squire and Olaf and Tim were happy to be part of their fun.

The local fishermen did not often venture this far, but Olaf spotted an unfamiliar sail on the horizon. Yet, something about it was familiar, too. He just couldn't place it and soon forgot it.

But they loved warm comfort and relaxation the spring afforded and made it a weekly visit, just the two of them. Relaxed and contented, it was their haven from even the calm world of the Abbey.

Almost a month later, they had just settled down into the warm water, when Olaf's sudden shout of alarm startled Tim from his reverie. But, before he could even focus, rough hands grabbed him from behind and a foul-smelling cloth was clamped over his face. He started to struggle, but everything dissolved into blackness.

When the darkness abated, Tim found that he was hogtied and lying below deck on some sort of boat. Lying beside him was Olaf, still unconscious and similarly tied. They were naked; whoever had kidnapped them hadn't bothered to retrieve their clothes. The motion of the decking below them told Tim they were at sea.

Shortly, Olaf regained consciousness, and Tim sought to comfort him. "I don't know what's happening," he admitted. "Whoever took us obviously wants us alive and unharmed. But I have no idea where they may be taking us." Some comfort!

But Olaf didn't panic. He believed with all his heart that his dad would not let anything bad happen. Tim understood that, but was uneasy; could he really do that?

One of the crewmen heard them talking and came down the hatch. He saw them conscious and squirming in their bonds, so he again applied some of the noxious liquid to a cloth and held it over their noses until they passed out again.

When they came to again, the boat was perfectly calm; they must be in a harbor of some sort. The crew cut the bonds from their feet, leaving their hands tied behind them and dragged them off the boat and onto a stone pier crowded with onlookers. They were forced to their knees and Olaf looked around dazed and suddenly turned to Tim.

"I know this place," he gasped. "It's the Th-th-th-thane's island," he stammered through his tears. "He'll kill us both!"

Tim at once understood their peril. After all they had tried to kill Olaf before. He shivered in the cold as a mountainous man dressed as a Viking chieftain approached them.

"Well, Englishman! At last my prodigal is brought home to atone for his sins," he announced, gesturing at Olaf. "You I will sell back to your spineless countrymen; they will pay the Danegeld. You have ruined the boy as a messenger to Odin, so I will keep him as a plaything until I tire of him. After that he will only be fit to be a thrall for the women."

Turning to his guards, he gave instructions in Norwegian and Tim was dragged off to a cell and locked in. Despite fighting bravely, Olaf was carried off to the Thane's house. Throughout the night, Tim could hear Olaf's screams.

The next morning, Tim was given a ragged blanket to cover himself and was chained to a pole in the main square of the settlement, his hands still shackled behind him. About mid-morning, Olaf brought him some food. Tim noticed at once his son was limping.

But Olaf would not tell Tim what the Thane and his 'Warriors' had done. He didn't want to further upset his already terrorized dad. All he would say is, "It hurt!" He was too ashamed after being raped to admit that to Tim. All Tim could do was to pray that rescue might come swiftly before Olaf was permanently injured or traumatized. He noticed the sliver cross was missing and Olaf told him the Thane had ripped it off him and kept it.

Days passed with Tim being virtually ignored by the settlement; chained outside during the day and locked in his cell at night. They kept Olaf naked, but not restrained. Evidently they thought this young boy could work them no harm. He continued to feed Tim and 'entertain' the Thane and his minions. Tim had noticed the welts and bruises on Olaf's body, but still the boy refused to discuss his torture with his dad. Tim could only observe and weep as his boy tried to comfort him and make his confinement less harsh.

To the derision of all the residents who seemed to be under some sort of spell.

After the first week, they unshackled Tim at night in his cell and Olaf was allowed to join him there 3; after the Thane tired of him. The two of them just held each other and tried to sleep on the cold stone floor of the cell.

One of Olaf's young friends from 'before' was Sven Svensen a year or two younger than he was, and the older of two brothers whose mother and father had also been enthralled by the Thane. To Olaf's dismay, Sven had been 'taken' by the Thane. "He'll be sacrificed to Odin," he tearfully told Tim. "We've got to do something!" Try as he could, Tim could not think of a way to save the boy. Chained as he was, he could not even get near Sven and all his pleading to the Thane was met with derisive laughter. But his greater fear was that Olaf might try to intervene.

Olaf managed to talk to Sven who was in agony by this time from the 'toughening exercises' the Thane was heaping upon him. The most cruel, as Olaf told his father, was one where Sven had his hands and arms secured behind his back and was laid upon the altar on which he would shortly die. A sharp hook had been passed through his penis just below the glans and another through his scrotum near the base of his penis. Two of the Warriors took hold of cords attached to the hooks and pulled them apart with all their strength.

Sven screamed with all his might until he was hoarse or until he passed out. If the latter happened, he was revived with cold water and the torture continued throughout the night. Everyone in the settlement heard his piercing shrieks, but even his parents did not seem perturbed.

Having witnessed one of the sessions, Olaf resolved to save Sven somehow. In truth, Sven was so maimed it might have been better to let the boy die.

Tim could see very clearly what was coming; despite his pleading, Olaf was determined to intervene when the moment came. "I can't just leave him die, Father. You know I can't."

"But what if you're hurt 3; or even killed?"

Olaf refused to meet is father's eyes and simply stared at the ground. Tim knew he was determined to do this thing no matter what the cost. At last he looked up. "You taught me that I must do what my heart tells me is right, no matter what. No matter what the cost," he said simply.

Torn between his love of his son, fear of what might happen and admiration for Olaf's courage, all Tim could do was hold him close.

But inexorably, the night of the full moon 3; the night of sacrifice 3; drew upon them. Tim was chained to his pole with a clear view of the crude altar and one of the Warriors held Olaf firmly so he was forced to watch but could not interfere.

Sven was dragged to the altar 3; the boy had either been beaten unconscious or drugged to oblivion 3; and laid upon it, his chest exposed for the knife which would shortly send him to Valhalla. As had been the case at Olaf's own near sacrifice, Sven's mother would be forced to do the deed.

As she raised the bade high above her head and started to bring it down, Olaf suddenly wrenched free of his 'minder', seized the the upraised knife and plunged it into the chest of the Thane standing on the other side of the Altar.

The chaos was immediate.

Arnie, Sven's father, at last aroused from his torpor, snatched up his son and fled with him and young Bjorn and their mother to the to the rocky canyons across the island.

Olaf wasn't so lucky. He was immediately caught by one of the Warriors who struck him savagely with his mailed fist, knocking him to the ground unconscious. While several of the Warriors help a profusely bleeding Thane to his quarters, another of them threw Tim into his cell and left him in the darkness.

When his head cleared he could hear the shouts of fury and the screams of his son as they punished him for the apostasy he had committed. Sinking to the floor, he began to pray as he had never prayed before. "Please, Oh God, he's just a child! Don't let them hurt him!"

It was about an hour before sunrise when the Warriors finally tired of savaging Olaf and threw the nearly lifeless boy onto the floor in Tim's cell. Taking him in his arms immediately, Tim could feel the blood seeping from the whip cuts all over his young body. But it was only as it became light that Tim could look with horror on the full extent of his son's injuries.

That he had been beaten mercilessly all over his young body was a given. Not a square inch remained undamaged from the terrible hooked whips they had used on him. His nose was flattened, his right shoulder dislocated and he was bleeding from his mouth where they had smashed his teeth and from his anus, where they had forced most of the men of the settlement to rape him.

But it was his eyes! Those impossibly blue orbs that had often looked up at him with such love and devotion.

They had burned both of them with a hot poker.

Tim knew his son was dying. But his mind 'shut down' and he sat cradling the boy in his arms, feeling nothing, seeing nothing, hearing nothing.

Some time later, about noon, Tim became aware of the Thane standing in his cell, supported by two of the Warriors. "So, Englishman!" he croaked, "This is how you repay my hospitality! You send your brat to attack me! SURELY YOU DON'T EXPECT ME TO THINK HE DECIDED TO DO THIS FOUL DEED ON HIS OWN!" he roared and subsided into a coughing fit.

Tim just stared at him. This demented monster simply could not accept that Olaf had been capable of such courage.

"You will pay for your perfidy with the traitor's death. Your countrymen do not value you and neither will I! But I will not judge you. You will go to Odin and before you travel to Odin, you will witness your pup's death at the end of the same rope that will send you to his judgment one day after."

The Thane and his flunkies spat upon him and left him to contemplate his fate. From his studies, Tim knew, among the Vikings, that meant hanging by a short rope. After the victim slowing strangled to death, his body was thrown on the rocks to be slowly devoured by the wild beasts. The picked bones were then thrown into the sea.

Tim once again lapsed into a state of 'unfeeling'.

Shortly, Olaf regained consciousness. "Father," he whimpered, "I can't see! Am I going to die? Please make it stop hurting! Why can't I see you?" Tim neither heard nor comprehended and they both sank into comas.

But, by nightfall, Tim was conscious and dealing with the realization that both he and his beautiful son were going to die. All through that night and the next day and night, Tim prayed his heart out. "Oh Lord! Please spare Olaf. Let them take me instead!" he cried as he held his ravaged son in his arms and tried to comfort him.

But God didn't seem to hear him. At least preparations for Olaf's hanging went forward.

Early the following morning, two of the Warriors came for him. Tim tried to hold Olaf back from them, screaming, "NO! TAKE ME!" But it was no use; they simply clubbed Tim and dragged the boy away.

From the small barred window, Tim watched, weeping hysterically, as they bound Olaf's arms cruelly behind his back, stood him on a barrel and placed the noose about the boy's slim neck. In what must have been a super-human demonstration of his courage and determination, Olaf stood there bravely, just as he was sure Tim would have wanted him to.

Just before he leaped off the barrel 3; he was adamant he would cheat the Thane of the act of putting him to death 3; he shouted, "Goodbye, Father! I love you!"

By this time, Tim was sure God had abandoned them completely. But God pulled a veil over the scene; Tim collapsed unconscious onto the floor.

He didn't hear Olaf's last high, strangled, scream as the noose choked his young life from him.

He didn't see Olaf's legs kicking wildly as he desperately tried to regain a foothold. Then slow. And finally stop.

He didn't watch as Olaf's lifeless form hung twisting at the end of the rope, urine and feces running down his strong youthful legs, those beautiful legs that would never run or play again.

4. The Gift

Tim narrates

And then I saw the small bundle, wrapped in a blood-stained white blanket on the litter opposite mine. At first, I was frozen with horror as it all flooded back into my mind. Then despair replaced horror. "Olaf! My beautiful Olaf! He's gone!" I screamed over and over.

Next was anger. "God! How can you have let this happen? He was just a child! A beautiful, beautiful boy. IS THIS HOW YOU REWARD YOUR FAITHFUL SERVANTS?" I shrieked.

Turning my head away, I saw Father Bertram crouched at my side, tears streaming down his cheeks. He reached out his hand to comfort me but I batted it away. "Don't touch me! You and your God have killed an innocent boy. You abandoned us when we needed you. Don't try to fool me with your gestures of comfort. I WON'T HAVE IT! DO YOU HEAR ME? GET AWAY FROM ME!"

Bertram jumped as if struck. I guess, in a way, that's what I had done. But I was beyond caring. All I could feel was anger and a great emptiness.

When the craft touched down in front of the abbey, I released the straps that held me on the litter and reached for Olaf. Several of the brothers had come forward to carry his broken body, but I forced them back, striking one of them and knocking him to the ground.

Jumping down, I took Olaf in my arms and stumbled up the hill to the graveyard. There was a new, unfinished crypt that had been reserved for Father Bertram 3; when his time came. Ignoring protocol, I laid my burden on the rough stone. Pulling back the shroud, I gazed at the face of my son.

The beautiful blue orbs that each day had looked up at me with such love and devotion were gone and the other savagery wrought by the Thane's minions was plainly visible. But it was still the most beautiful face in the world. I looked down upon it, kissed the blood-encrusted lips, laid the shroud gently over his face and withdrew.

Stumbling back down the hill, I went to my cell and sat on the bed which we had shared.

And cried!

For three days I sat there and wept, ignoring everyone. Actually, I chased anyone away who tried to comfort me and sometimes I was quite vicious. One of the students tried to bring me a bowl of soup; I snatched it away and threw it at him. He fled in terror.

I felt nothing; not sadness, not sorrow, not anger 3; just a great emptiness!

Finally exhausted, I lay back and drifted off to an uneasy sleep.

Suddenly, a light illuminated my entire cell. I sat up fearfully as a figure 3; a woman 3; appeared within the light. I did not recognize her until she spoke 3;it had been too many years.

"Timothy, my son!"

"Mother? How? Why?" I stammered, frightened out of my wits.

"Peace, be at peace, my son," she replied.

"How can I be at peace? My son, my beautiful son is dead! My life is empty and worthless. I couldn't save him and God abandoned us both!"

"He did not abandon you, Timothy, and he has need of you. You must live and be strong."

"Easy for you to say!" And I was immediately ashamed that I had spoken to Mother that way.

"I know it is not easy for you. But you must! You have suffered because of a great evil and that evil has now been destroyed. God suffers with you as we all do. But He will never abandon you. When your father and I were killed, he sent Daniel to rescue you."

I didn't answer for I knew in my heart she was right.

"Someone else is here with me," she said and another, smaller figure stepped from the light and came to me.

"Olaf! Oh my beautiful Olaf!" I sobbed as I took him in my arms. His blue eyes shown with love once more. His body was perfect; I could feel his warm skin and around his neck he wore the silver cross.

"Peace be to you, Father," he greeted me, laying his head on my chest as he had done so many times. "I am safe here with God and my pain is gone. Grandmother is right; you must live 'cause there is someone who needs you. You taught me to be brave and strong and now you must be brave and strong for me."

I knew he was right and I vowed I would not fail him.

"Yes, I miss being with you and the other brothers, but I know we will be together again. It's many years away but only a few days as we recon time. So I will wait to welcome you when your time comes." And he took the chain and cross from around his neck, hugged me and placed it on my pillow.

"We must leave you, now," said Mother. "But know that we will hold you in our love and God will protect and sustain you."

Olaf gave me a hug and a kiss and stepped back as the light faded. And they were gone.

I suddenly felt very tired and I lay back again and was soon asleep, the first time in many a night that I felt calm.

When I awoke the next morning, I was confused and frightened. "Was it real? Had Mother and Olaf really been here? Or was it just a dream? It must have been a dream."

And then I found something lying on my pillow 3; a small, silver Celtic Cross on a chain.

That morning, full of remorse, I staggered into Prior Bertram's office and fell on my knees. "Father Prior, I have sinned grievously!" I wailed with my face pressed to the floor.

He got up from his desk, came to me and embraced me with a crushing hug. "Tim," he told me, "you have suffered a terrible loss. We all have! Olaf was one of the finest boys I have ever known and his loss is bitter to all of us. But, because of his bravery, a great evil has been destroyed. He is truly a martyr as were the early saints of the church. You taught him to be brave, Tim, and for that we can all be grateful. God forgives you for your anger and so do I."

"Father Prior," I confessed, "last night I had a visitation. My mother and Olaf both visited me from beyond. This morning, I thought it was a dream, but Olaf left me this." And I showed him the cross and chain I had found on my pillow. "It was real! And I promised Mother and Olaf I would try to live bravely for them. Olaf told me God would send me a gift and I must live for the one He would send."

Bertram was amazed, but he accepted my statement and rejoiced with me. "Tim, all the Brothers and I have been praying for your recovery so our prayers have been answered. Praise be to God!"

Slowly over the next several months I began to resume my duties. Much of my time was given to instructing our students. Occasionally, the sight of those eager young faces was more than I could stand and I had to excuse myself and seek peace in the chapel. The students and their squire understood and no one offered a single word of criticism. When it came time for the class to visit the Devil's Post-pile, Brother Mark took them and I was grateful for his compassion.

The students and their squire visited the hot spring regularly and they never failed to invite me to go with them. But I could not! It was the last place Olaf and I had been happily together.

One day a letter for me was delivered. It was from Sven's parents, Arnie and Hulda. Brother Knudsen translated it for me.

Dearest Brother Timothy, We write to you in both joy and sadness. Joy that our Sven has been restored to us. Sadness that your Olaf perished to save him. It seems very unfair that we, who abandoned Sven to a cruel fate, should receive him unto us again while you suffer in sadness and loss.

The doctors tell us that Sven's physical wounds will heal, but it is his mind that gives us most concern. To that end we will emigrate to North America where there is a place called the Menninger Clinic in a city named Houston where he will receive treatment.

But we are concerned for you, dear friend, also. How can we ever repay the loss that you have suffered? If it would give you comfort, we should be pleased to send Bjorn to you. We know that he cannot ever replace Olaf, for he is not Olaf. But, if he could be of comfort, we know you would raise him to be strong, brave and compassionate just as you did Olaf. And we would be proud of him.

Please consider our offer.

In love, Arnie and Hulda Svensen

"I believe you are right to do so," he agreed.

"They are a family once more and I would not wish to sunder it again. And, besides, I believe that Bjorn will be one of the principal players in Sven's recovery. He will need his little brother."

Bertram agreed and I wrote back to the Svensen's, gently declining their offer and conveying God's blessing.

One morning in mid November, Father Bertram told me I had a visitor waiting for me in the chapel. Entering, I saw a young boy sitting there. At first, I didn't recognize him as he handed me a letter.

THE EARLDOM OF CHARTWELL

My Dearest Brother Tim,
I need not tell you of the shock, sorrow and anger that engulfed all of Chartwell when we learned of the murder of Olaf. Indeed, I have not felt such an outpouring of grief in the time I have occupied the Earldom and we very nearly ceased to function for several days.
The boys 3; old and young 3; kept asking, "Why?" "How could this happen?" "How could God have taken away the one we had loved so much?" All questions to which we had no answers.
Without any prompting whatsoever, every boy gave of their commissary points to purchase a small bronze plaque that will be placed on the bridge. It reads simply:

TO OLAF
A CHARTWELL BOY FOREVER

In the year he was with us, he taught all of us much about bravery, strength of purpose and compassion. Those were qualities he learned from you, Tim. Not from his birth parents who ignored and abandoned him to pursue their foolish dreams. While the boys and their squire from his former squad felt the loss more keenly than some others, the one who was most devastated was, of course, young Eric, the boy he loved and who loved him with all of their young hearts. He was so looking forward to being in next year's student group and being once again with the love of his life,
I have sent him to you as your Prior and I believe you need each other. You have both lost the most important person in your lives. I know he could never replace Olaf, for he is not Olaf; he is Eric.
But he has said over and over that he wants to dedicate his life to Olaf. That he wants to grow to be courageous and strong and compassionate just as he was and that you, Tim, can teach him those things. That he wants nothing more in life than to be one of the Brothers of St Patrick.
Both Daniel and Artie agree with me that his 'calling' is genuine. If you could take this little boy under your wing, we believe you both would benefit from it.
If this is a step you are not ready for, I will understand. Please allow him to remain with you, then, as a student until the present class returns next spring.
All of us here wish for you 3; and Eric 3; the peace of God and His healing grace.
With my heartfelt love and admiration,
Robert

Hope!

But was I ready to be part of that hope? Could I love this little boy sufficiently to fulfill that hope? Or would he simply be a constant reminder of the pain of Olaf's death? Could I ever give my love to another again? Or was I simply afraid 3; afraid of being hurt again?

I didn't know the answers to these questions and Eric's arrival forced me to confront them. "Eric," I said, holding him by his hands "I'm glad you came to me and I know you want to be my son. But that's something I must think about. I don't want to do something that would be wrong for both of us. I'm not sure I can care for you the way you need. Sir Robert may be right; maybe we need each other. I just don't know. Please understand, I'm not going to send you away. Can you understand?"

Eric nodded but I could tell he was bitterly disappointed.

The next few days 3; while I wrestled with my inner feelings 3; Eric was with me all day. He helped me wherever he could without complaint, we ate together and attended the holy offices together. Always those luminous brown eyes questioning. Each night, I kissed him on the forehead and sent him off to his bunk with the students. But the next morning, he was back.

I sought counsel from Father Bertram. "Tim," he told me, "I cannot help you. You must decide whether you are ready for this step. But, I would bid you to think on these two things: you and Eric have both lost the most important person in your lives. And is he the gift that your mother said God would send you?"

No help there and prayer didn't seem to help either. Meanwhile, Eric continued to skewer me with those hopeful eyes.

One morning Squire Paul stopped me. "Brother Tim, I'm not trying to pressure you, but I thought you might want to know. Eric cries himself to sleep every night. Each of my boys has invited him into his bed, but he says he is saving that for you. Just thought you'd like to know."

No pressure! Yeah!

One evening Eric and I sat together at Vespers as usual. It was the beginning of Advent and the lector was Brother Cadfel. He had chosen a passage from St. Matthew.

But while he thought on these things, behold, the angel of the Lord appeared unto him in a dream, saying, Joseph, thou son of David, fear not to take unto thee Mary thy wife: for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Ghost.

Yes, he was!

When Vespers was over, I pulled Eric to me and knelt. I knew what I must do, but didn't know quite how to tell him. "Eric," I stammered, "when I return from Compline, it would please me greatly if I were to find you waiting in my bed."

His joy was instantaneous! Throwing his arms about me he could not speak. He didn't have to, his shining face spoke for him.

When I slid in behind him that night, he simply snuggled down in my arms and we both wept: for Olaf whom we had lost and each other whom we had found. That little warm body next to me brought me a peace I hadn't felt for a long time. It also brought me sadness, but it no longer overwhelmed me.

The next morning, I woke with a whole different outlook on life. There was a little boy whom I had come to love and who loved me unconditionally. What more did I need?

We continued that way for several days, together day and night, getting to know each other 3; not sexually, that would come later. Just feeling comfortable with each other. Then one evening, he asked me to be in the shower with him and wash him. As my hands rubbed that soft, slippery body, I knew the bond was unbreakable.

After Lauds and breakfast, we dressed in our warm outer clothes and I took him by the hand and we struggled through the snow up the hill to the graveyard. It was the first time I had been there since the day I had laid Olaf's broken body in the crypt that had been reserved for Father Bertram. Brother Samuel had lovingly finished Olaf's resting place and the simple inscription read

"Here's where I laid him," I told Eric. "But he is not here. He is safe with God and we can rejoice for that." Eric nodded solemnly but otherwise was transfixed. For a moment the spell was broken as I thought, "I'll bet future brothers will wonder why we had such a young prior."

Dropping to my knees in the snow, I hugged Eric to me. "Little one, if you will still have me, I will be your father. I'm not sure I can be good enough, but I shall try."

He laid his head on my shoulder and replied, "Brother Tim, you will be the best father a boy could hope for. Together we will honor Olaf's memory."

That evening, the whole community crowded into Vespers as Eric and I knelt at the holy altar and pledged our lives to each other as father and son. And Eric Kiscaden Crowell was consecrated as Acolyte of the Abbey of St. Patrick on Iona. Every brother, every student and their squire paused on their way from the chapel to give us both warm hugs.

Winter was now upon us, but our lives were busy taking care of the stock and preparing for the coming of spring and planting. Eric eagerly joined the students in their classes with Brother Ambrose and began to assist Father Bertram at holy offices. And Father Prior and I met together frequently as we prepared for my elevation as sub-prior.

After about a week of simply sleeping in each others arms, Eric begged me one night, "Father, please touch me. It's something Olaf and I did every night and it feels so good!"

I was astounded! Not that he and Olaf had enjoyed each other, but at his invitation for me to share his body. But he left no doubt as to what he wanted as he took my hand and placed it right on his quite adequate package and then reached for mine.

And rubbing and stroking became a regular part of our daily bedtime ritual.

I had discovered Eric was still a bit uneasy in the dark, so I left a small lamp burning on the table in our cell. But, one night we were just about asleep when a much brighter light infused our cell. And out of the light stepped a small figure.

"Peace be unto you, Father and unto you, too Eric. My heart overflows with happiness that you have found each other!

"Olaf!" screeched Eric as the two of them came together in a joyous hug. A moment later, it was a threesome.

"I'm so happy that Eric is now your son 'cause that makes us brothers!" Olaf told me. I could feel his arms around me and was completely astounded. I started to speak, but he placed his finger on my lips.

"I can't stay and this will be the last time I can visit, but know that all of us are happy for you and will look to your being with us some day. Until then, farewell!"

He stepped back and the light began to fade, but then he turned to me and said,"Oh by the way, don't be so shy in bed. Eric gives a wicked blowjob!" And he was gone.

Both of us were shocked by his parting statement. But, then we started to laugh until the tears came. Finally, he grinned up at me in the dim light and asked, "Would you like a demonstration?"

Epilogue

In the proceedings against the Thane, it was learned his real name was John Wayne Gacey, a North American, where he had ritually murdered scores of young slave boys before fleeing to Scandinavia. He continued to assure his two hapless accomplices that Odin would save them, right up until the moment the three of them lost their twisted lives at the end of the hangman's ropes. Evidently, Odin was busy elsewhere that day.

Over the years, the 'students' had recorded and written down the oral history that Brother Ambrose imparted to them. Published both as a book and as a recording, it would become as least as important as Lord Churchill's History of the English Speaking People. The recording set contained a second disk with Brother Elliot's pictures of the Abbey and Iona, interspersed with songs sung a'capella by a young choirboy named Eric.

Author's Note: Elliot Erwitt was a noted photographer in our world.

They were both instant hits and were published throughout the Empire. With the royalties, the Abbey now suffered from an embarrassment of riches. The interest generated by the book and recordings attracted many visitors to the Abbey on pilgrimage 3; which brought still more income. Indeed it was often a struggle to maintain the simple life the community strove for.

After much consideration, it was decided the funds would be dedicated to Olaf, and used to establish other places like Chartwell where young, deserving slave boys could be raised to be worthy free subjects of our empire.

Once they had decided being slaves was not degrading, Matthew and Mark 3; the Gospel kids 3; became two of the most outstanding boys at Chartwell. So much so, that when they approached college age they were freed and began to study with Daniel and Artie as their eventual successors. Freed from many of the day-to-day tasks, Daniel and Artie gave much of their efforts toward 'planting' and 'nurturing' the enterprises that Olaf's legacy made possible.

Although young slave boys vastly outnumbered slave girls 3; orphaned girls were much more likely to be adopted as free children 3; there was still a need for a similar institution for girls. With Prudence as their guide, the Sisters of Mercy did open such a place at Harrogate in Yorkshire.

In due course, Eric grew into a remarkable young man and returned to England to study medicine. Bound to the Abbey, he would replace Brother Cadfel. When he returned to the Abbey after several years of study, it was to Abbot Timothy he renewed his vows.

He had brought with him a young black boy whom he had rescued during an internship in Nairobi.

Peter was blind, his eyes having been destroyed with acid by his 'uncle' to make him a more appealing beggar. Eric had only by the sheerest luck rescued him from the gelder's knife. But, in a very short time he could get about quite well and had an uncanny ability to sense who he was with and greet him by name. "He sees with his mind," was all the explanation Brother Eric could provide. His skin was so black that all one could see of him in the dim light of the chapel, was his white teeth shining like a beacon.

Unfailingly polite, gifted with great love for his 'father' and all the Brothers, and an eager and thorough student, he would soon take his place as an Acolyte of the Abbey of St. Patrick on Iona.

The End