Page 7 of Apple Boy

My shoulders slumped. “It’s a long story,” I sighed out. “But, no lie, my father is Brioc, Duke of Thorn and he’s as eccentric as the day is long!”

I considered Adam, and his wide-eyed reaction to what I was saying made my heart flutter. I enjoyed having his undivided attention. His innocence was adorable and infectious. I suppose that was when I really got carried away. I wanted to see those pretty eyes look at me with awe. I wanted to hear him gasp with wonder. So I went too far and revealed a truth I should have kept to myself.

“My, um, own title is the Count ofSkraedig. But it doesn’t mean anything”, I said self-deprecatingly.

“Skraedig is the capital, the largest city in Thorn and I have no power as such,” I said, trying to backtrack.

The way Adam stared at me made the butterflies in my belly dance. I wanted to lean in, kiss those firm, full lips, and make him moan, but I hesitated. I was not in Thorn, and I could not act on my baser instincts. I broke the intense silence that had fallen between us and began to babble nervously.

“There are giant’s bones in the woods at Giantsholm, but he was only twenty-meters tall. We don’t kill giants. They’re our friends and neighbors. This particular giant, Lanai Stormfire tripped and cracked his head open. It’s giant-folk tradition to leave the dead where they fall to become one with the land.” I explained. “Oh, and an Osian galleon is just under fifty meters long, the thought of a giant even being that tall is, quite frankly ridiculous,” I added.

“And in Thorn—“I paused for a breath. “Men can bed men, and women can bed women if they choose, or both or neither… all without punishment.”

Adam’s stared at me in awe. This was the reaction I’d longed for. Oh, yes, I did like his undivided attention, very much. I don’t know what madness came over me then, but sitting there in the morning sunshine with such a pleasant, kind man as my audience, I sort of lost myself.

“I bed men,” I admitted boldly. It was a scandalous admission considering my predicament. I realized after the words left my lips that I could have made my situation a whole lot worse. My choice of bed partner could have revolted Adam—he might have set his father on me. I’d seen the stocks in Mallowick market square and knew from tavern talk that it wasn’t only cattle thieves and philanderers who ended up imprisoned there. I couldn’t bear to imagine the misery of those who had received such a public punishment for finding relief—finding love—with others of the same sex. I’d never experienced discrimination for welcoming a boy as my bedfellow. It seemed outrageous to me that it was anyone else’s business who tumbled whom as long as all parties wanted to be tumbled!

Adam looked nervously at his booted feet, then he turned his head, and his emerald green eyes met mine. The exchange of knowing eye contact was powerful and curiously, Adam did not look away.

“Do you know why my Pa calls me apple boy?” he asked rhetorically. I remained silent. “He says it like it’s a curse word, and it is to him.”

Adam paused, appearing deep in thought, his eyes roaming over my face, considering me. I think he wondered whether he could trust me and so I nodded for him to continue.

“Apple Boy’s a traditional harvest song round these parts,” he explained. “The youngest son of the local cider maker is always an apple boy. At the harvest festival, the children form a circle in the market square, and the apple boy takes a basket of apples and gives one to each child while they sing,” he said. “But as I got older the meaning changed. Now, an apple boy is what you call a boy who likes other boys, y’know—a fruit.” He reached out and let the back of his index finger caress my youthful prominent Adam’s apple. I gulped, fully understanding the context and reveling in such a simple, intimate gesture.

“Is he just calling you that to get a rise out of you, or do you like boys?” I questioned.

An apple fell into Adam’s lap from above and, startled, we both looked up. Aryn’s bearded face was looking down at us from the top of the wall, and he was laughing.

“Ah, t’is you two scamps! I heard voices,” he said. “Listen, Adam, your pa’s on the warpath lookin’ for ya. He’s sent Nico to find yez,” he warned.

“Shite,” Adam exclaimed. “Thanks, Aryn. I owes ye!” Adam called as Aryn vanished back behind the wall. Adam turned to me, “Come on we’d best get goin’”, he said urgently.

Adam picked up the water flask and set off back through the tangle of bushes. I folded the cloth bundle then followed behind, still awaiting the answer to my question:

Did Adam like boys? And if so, could he like me?

CHAPTER SIX

TOIL

We worked on for three backbreaking hours, and when not observed by Sewell’s hateful lackey Nico with his wicked switch in-hand, Adam and I collected apples and conversed. With childlike enthusiasm, Adam asked question after question about my home in Thorn, and I regaled him with stories of Skraedig in Winter when the landscape became as pretty as a cake shop, complete with frosting and sugared fruits. I also told him of the open-minded nature of society, of the beauty, art, and music. Telling Adam of my home made me feel proud, and at once, terribly homesick. I’d become so bored with all of that beauty, and I’d endeavored to seek adventure and find something new to make my heart soar. I knew now I’d taken my old life for granted. I had not understood my privileged upbringing until I’d spent my first night curled up behind two barrels in an alleyway in Mallowick town. It was then, at my lowest ebb I realized I had a choice. I could die in the gutter and shame my family forever, or fight on. It was then that a determined fire kindled at my core. I knew that fight I must, for justice needed to be served, and I would not stop until I found it.

The adventure I discovered on the road was not the adventure I’d expected, and in all of my travels through the provinces of Osia, Corvay, Reuss, Terria, and Erias, Adam was the only man who had made my heart soar. He was of the land, strong, generous, funny, and innocent. He was compassionate and offered kindness freely because it was the right thing to do, and, most importantly, he gave without seeking my favor for wealth or political gain like so many sons of my father’s men. Adam was a giver by nature and the most genuine man I’d ever met. And so, trusting him as he stood looking down from atop his ladder, I told him of my plan to travel on to the City of Serein when this week’s harvesting was done.

A child named Polly rang the midday luncheon bell, and I was relieved to rest my bones and fill my belly. After a meal of bread, cheese, and spicy apple relishes that Adam’s sister’s and mother Rosalie had prepared, we worked on until I was sick of the sight of damnable apples.

I believed we would stop working when the light began to fade. My legs and arms ached abominably, and I wanted nothing more than to lay back in my bath in my quarters at home in Skraedig. I envisaged how I would instruct Merriman, my bathing valet, to keep topping the tub up with hot water, and also, to keep topping my goblet with warm spiced wine until the aches eased. Then, I would flop naked into my feather bed and fall into a deep, restful sleep. It was such a glorious thought, but sadly, wishful thinking.

The harvesters were not stopping their toil, and I found it strange that no one but I questioned the late hour. When Nico finished one of his half-hourly patrols, I sidled up to Aryn.

“Why are we working so late?” I asked fractiously.

“You works till yer told to stop. You dare rest before Sewell tells you yer done and he’ll give ye to Nico and dock yer pay.” I could see in the docile eyes of my fellow apple pickers that they were all ready to drop into the grass and sleep, but far too intimidated and terrified to cease their hard labor. It alarmed me that these men and children appeared to have chosen to work for Sewell and I guessed that the lure of such a good wage made them agree to suffer such abuse.

“A switch is a switch—it hurts like buggery, and Nico gets a rise out of using it. But do you want to have worked this whole day fer nothin’?” Aryn asked me.

I winced as the leather straps on the basket cut into my shoulders. I was feeling so very cold now and yearned for the wonderful deep featherbed at home in Skraedig that I’d so taken for granted.