by Ruth Davis Hays 2011
The acolytes have followed ‘Khiall to the waters’ edge, who will brave the moonlit current?
The five naiades slowed their swim. Their musical voices beckoned to him on the night air. Daviel watched jealously as ‘Khiall rose from the muddy bank and stepped into the stream to join the ladies.
The stream pulled the last strands of ruined shirt from ‘Khiall and the blue light of Unara kissed his broad shoulders as he braved the frigid waters, stepping deeper to the middle.
For a brief moment, Daviel saw the young fae’s head disappear under the rippling current as the sirens lured him past the fast sloping sides, but a sly grin flashed back up at his comrades as ‘Khiall found his footing again with a few strong strokes. This time he stood his ground, arms slashing beneath the surface and black hair curling about his neck; he was as mesmerizing as the female fae who, seeing ‘Khiall’s resistance to follow them to a watery bed, began to bob and weave about him in a playful manner. Their golden and silver hair sparkled like starlight. Tiny waves lifted them high as they spiraled and gloried in the moon’s breath around ‘Khiall.
Daviel felt his heart burning, ashamed for not venturing in with the fae, yet feeling a strange satisfaction in watching this lustful ballet performed before him, and seemingly for his benefit. He once caught ‘Khiall’s eye cutting up the hill, straight to his.
It was a bitter and irresistible show. ‘Khiall’s long fingers brushing against the glittering, slender torso of one female then another, his lips meeting their pliant flesh as they slowly flowed over him like a soft waterfall only to force him beneath the surface once or twice. Each time the dark head fell beneath the water, Daviel suffered and reveled in the idea of ‘Khiall not surviving the encounter. But, up he would come again and again, to toss or embrace the tormentress as the song continued.
The human boys stared in mute fascination as their fellow acolyte not only did not succumb to the sultry calls to follow the naiades down the river, but turned their advances back upon them as easily as he might take the lead in a dance.
He seduced his seducers, and all five naiades paused in their course to join the frolic in the shallows.
The voyeurs behind their bush had to blush and turn away from the sight one by one. Though Daviel lasted the longest, his flesh searing with both lust and resentment, he had to leave the splashing orgy to its logical conclusion and stomp back through the chill pasture lands to the monastery. He was determined to return to his bed before they were missed by the headmasters coming to ring the predawn bell for prayers.
As the morning bit at his conflicted emotions, the boy hoped to all the gods that ‘Khiall would get caught and punished for this foray into disobedience, if only because he showed Daviel what he had been missing all this time and was giving up in accepting his life as a priest.
He hated ‘Khiall for that.
By the breakfast bell, Daviel knew that he had gotten his wish. A wet and topless ‘Khiall had been found sneaking back into the garden gate early that morning, but the Blessed Fathers were holding off punishment because the young fae was suffering from exposure and had been taken to the healing station.
The interrogation of what ‘Khiall had been up to and whose footprints were in the garden soil along with his would have to wait.
After hearing this, Daviel realized his own danger. His stomach dropped as he heard that a search of the acolytes’ garments was in progress to find any that might be suspiciously soiled. Quickly, he filtered through his footlocker to find the incriminating clothing and tossed them into the laundry chute.
The other reprobates gathered to whisper oaths of silence to each other and knew that their fates now lay on the lips of ‘Khiall Khnyghtsyde.
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