Pretender's Fate

By Dirk Hessian

BarbarianSpy Extreme: Rough gay sex, domination and control, limited violence in context.

Born a by-blow of the legendary future early fourteenth-century Scottish king, Robert deBruce, William Howard is raised at the English court and only learns of his true parentage after he comes of age and returns “home.” He discovers that Sir Thomas Howard, who William has thought was his real father, acknowledges him only to have an heir and does not treat him as his son.

From this point forward William becomes a pawn in linked wars of the Scottish succession and English suppression in the border lands of England and Scotland. Controlled and used by men for their own advantage from the English king to his own purported father to ambitious knights of the castle and a flamboyant bigger-than-life bloodthirsty Scottish warrior, William must learn to be clever and to use the power- and sexual lusts of other men himself to survive.

Behind the scenes is a mysterious protector who helps guide William through his personal and national-scene labyrinth, but will this support be sufficient for William’s needs?

• Language: English
• Publisher: BarbarianSpy
• Release date: Dec 25, 2012
• ISBN: 9781922187222

Dirk Hessian

An artist and writer, Dirk has always been interested in history and legends, particularly those of the Mediterranean and Asia. His fantasy works are full of ordinary men, and men who are in touch with forces beyond those of mortal men, fighting for their homelands in unusual ways.

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WARNING: This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. Contains graphic gay male sex, reluctance, multiple partners, anal sex, nongraphic violence, and gay love all of which may be considered offensive by some readers.

All sexually active characters in this work are at least 18 years of age.

This book is copyright © Dirk Hessian 2012

Published by BarbarianSpy in 2012

Published by Barbarianspy at Smashwords

Cover design © S Bush 2012

Cover images: -Marcus- | view portfolio, salagatoxic | view portfolio

ISBN E-book: 978-1-922187-22-2

All rights reserved

Pretender’s Fate is a work of historical fiction. Apart from the well-known actual people, events, and locales that figure in the narrative, all names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to current events or locales, or to living persons, is entirely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review or article, without written permission from the author or publisher.

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this e-book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this e-book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Pretender’s Fate

Dirk Hessian

CONTENTS

Chapter One: Castle Ayr, West Coast of Scotland, Early Spring, 1295

Chapter Two: Castle Ayr, Fall of 1297

Chapter Three: The Forest of Roxburgh, Christmastide 1313

Chapter Four: The Battle of Bannockburn, June 22–24, 1314

Chapter Five: Roxburgh Castle, Summer, 1314

Chapter Six: The Field and Forest of Roxburgh the Same Night

Chapter Seven: Gloucester England, 1314–1315

About the Author

Other Books by Dirk Hessian

Chapter One: Castle Ayr, West Coast of Scotland, Early Spring, 1295

Thomas Howard, master of Castle Ayr, was having difficulty focusing his attention on his unusual—and very, very secret—guest at banquet, Robert deBruce. Sir Thomas’s problem was the charms of the troubadour, Geoffrey, who deBruce had brought with him from Ireland. Geoffrey was playing his lute at Thomas’s feet and looking up at the master of the castle from under long, thick blond eyelashes with dreamy and sultry looks.

Sir Thomas’s guest, in turn, was having no trouble focusing his attention on the lovely Lady Madeline Howard.

Sir Thomas was the holder of an English stronghold in Scotland, and he was a lover of men. But above all else Sir Thomas was a political schemer, lest he would not be alive in the current poisonous political atmosphere in England and Scotland, let alone prosper as he had. Thus, he had plenty of space in the back of his brain to speculate on what Robert deBruce was doing here, at Ayr, at all—and what the English king, Edward I, Thomas’s suzerain, really wanted Thomas to do with deBruce.

DeBruce was one of several claimants to the Scottish throne, a position Edward wanted for himself, and had been in exile, forced there by Edward’s armed might, in Ireland for over a year. Now he was here, in Thomas’s Scottish castle that Howard held for Edward, and Thomas could either entertain him and keep his visit comfortable and secret until he moved on, as the instructions Edward had sent him commanded on the surface, or Thomas could put him to the sword or bind him and send him straight off to Edward, which may have been the subliminal command he was being given by a king who did not want to have the responsibility for such an act on his own hands.

I must think, Thomas mused to himself. Edward had given him a riddle he would much rather not have had. Should he succor or slice? If he did not stop deBruce here, he and his entourage, including the young, blond troubadour at his feet—even now touching his foot and ankle—would be journeying on in the morning. As the charms of the troubadour became increasingly intoxicating, though, Thomas’s interest in solving the riddle of DeBruce was waning.

The troubadour was accompanying Robert from his exile in Ireland as part of the entourage secretly en route to Stirling Castle to the east so that deBruce could wed Isabella of Mar in the manner of all those who were collecting tokens of legitimacy to the Scottish throne—doubly, in this case. Isabella was a descendent of King Donald III, through whom the current holder of the throne, John de Balliol, also traced his right to rule, which he had only done for three years, since 1292. The crown still lay uneasy on deBalliol’s brow, however. The world was overrun with others with at least equal claim to the orb—including Robert the Bruce himself. Being married in Stirling castle, the legendary seat of the Scots, was a chit in the stakes for ascending the throne.

The troubadour, now playing his flute with one hand, had found flesh above Thomas’s boot top and underneath his britches with the other hand. The feel of the young man’s sensuous fingers on the flesh of Thomas’s calf was a powerful distraction that had the man’s juices boiling.

The issue was not only that if Thomas did nothing to stay Robert deBruce’s progress toward Stirling Castle, deBruce would be gone in the morning, and beyond the reach of any underlying intent there had been in Edward’s command, but also that this troubadour too would be gone and beyond the reach of Thomas’s desires. Thomas was not accustomed to easily giving up any young man who made his juices boil. It was not an affair of any sort that Thomas sought with other men. He was more prone to using fully and casting aside.

Do you like my playing, sire? Geoffrey asked, looking up at the master of Castle Ayr with a look that he knew would arouse the man. The troubadour had received his instructions from his own master, Robert the Bruce, and he was finding those instructions far easier to complete than he had imagined he could. The Lady Madeline was a young, voluptuous beauty indeed. How, the troubadour had wondered, could any man, including her own husband, resist her? Obviously Robert deBruce could not. But now that he saw the look of lust in the eyes Sir Thomas was directing at him, he understood perfectly why Sir Thomas might be neglecting her.

I would love for you to play for me. And I would be just as happy playing you, Thomas answered.

I have some very special songs I could play, sire, although they are much better played in private. I think I do some of my best playing in private.

"Then