The Michael Arram stories are now beginning to appear together at: http://www.iomfats.org/storyshelf/hosted/arram
This story contains graphic depictions of sex between young males. If the reading or possessing of such material as this is illegal in your place of residence please leave this site immediately and do not proceed further. If you are under the legal age to read this, please do not do so.
III
It was chapel on Monday, and Henry was as nervous in tutor group as a Roman martyr before a lunch appointment with the lions.
`You OK, little babe?' asked Ed solicitously.
Nope,' was the twitchy reply. Why oh why did I volunteer for this?' he agonised.
Henry had consented to take a Monday assembly. After all Atwood,' the Head had said, your father is a vicar and Miss Prendergast says that you're her best pupil. It's good experience. I'm sure you'll be fine. The week's theme is "Tolerance".'
`Sir, you know I'm gay.'
`The fact has been mentioned.'
`You aren't putting me up there as an exercise in tolerance are you, sir?'
`Handle it any way you want to, Atwood. I have every confidence.'
So Henry was pacing nervously about the common room, his removable drive with Powerpoint presentation clutched in his sweaty hand. An escort of sympathetic friends walked him down. `You're only doing this to stop me doing a runner, aren't you?' he said, a little unfairly.
Wish I could kiss you,' Ed breathed in his ear, as Henry made the long walk down the chapel aisle to the lectern. A screen was already lowered above his head. He talked about margins, and how society squeezed people out to the edge. He had slides of Travellers, Gypsies, Untouchables, American Indians, playing above him. He said that it was at the margins where a society showed its health, or not. Tolerance allowed the disadvantaged to make their own culture, which, if society was really open could funnel back into the richness of the host culture, and transform it: he had slides of rap musicians, gay Pride marchers, aboriginal art, and he ended up with a crucifix, as the classic symbol of how a society could be totally transformed from the margins inwards. As usual Henry began hesitantly, but was talking with real passion at the end, and even hit the rhetorical as he finished. You want to know the future? Then don't look to Science. Don't look to Parliament. Look to the disadvantaged. Look to the outsiders. That's where it'll come from, and it won't be what you expect.' There was a momentary hush as he finished, breathing heavily, and then a storm of applause came down from the benches, with a few appreciative whistles and whoops from the somewhat prejudiced members of the Lower Sixth. He blushed as he walked up to his stall, leaving the chaplain to round off. Hands thumped his back as he stumbled past his friends.
He was hugged by several of the sixth as he left, which with the head patting and hand shaking left him feeling rather weepy as he finally found refuge in his study carrel. But he kept on playing and replaying the high points in his head: the rapt looks on the younger boys' faces, the proud smile on Miss Prendergast's face, the handshake from the Head. Maybe I could be a teacher, he was thinking as a knock came on the carrel door and a boy entered.
It was a sheepish looking Rudi Burlesdon. `Come in your lordship,' Henry smiled.
The boy grunted, `News gets round dunnit.'
`The twelfth earl, eh? What do I call you? I mean, you call me a "little queer" so I should be able to find something patronising to say about a member of a decaying over-privileged social order.'
`Not my fault I inherited a title, is it?'
`Not my fault I was born gay, is it?'
`Truce, Outfield. I'm here cos I owe you an apology. It was you who saved my butt over the cannabis charge, wasn't it?'
`Who told you that?'
`Never mind. But stories get round. You discovered that Skipper had set me up and talked him into confessing. Don't deny it.'
`OK, I won't. But from my point of view it wasn't your butt I was saving, it was Davey Skipper's. And he's worth five of you.'
For the first time, Rudi looked upset at something Henry had said to him, I'm sorry you think that,' he said quietly, and became suddenly formal and -- Henry had to admit -- rather dignified, a bit like Fritzy zu Terlenehem. But to square my conscience I had to come and thank you, and that I have done, and if in any way I can return the obligation, I will.' He turned to leave, and Henry felt a bit as though he'd been outmanoeuvred when he had a winning hand.
`Whoa, your lordship. Not so fast. I have questions, sit down here, if you think you can stand the implications that people might draw about your sexuality.'
Rudi stopped and gave Henry an unfathomable look. Henry,' he said, I don't notice anyone else in the block ashamed to be seen with you and Ed, and I certainly am not.'
`Bit of a turnaround in your attitudes isn't it.'
`I'm reassessing my views, Henry. Now. Shake my hand.' They shook and smiled at each other, and Henry had to admit that once the scowl had left Rudi's face, he was quite pleasant to look at; not only that but he even looked familiar, in a way that Henry could not quite put his finger on.
Rudi stretched out his six foot frame and crossed his arms, looking quirkily at Henry. `So what do you want to know, Outfield?'
`When did you get to be an earl?'
`My father died in a light aircraft accident when I was five, sad really, I never got to know him. I did the usual thing in the Rassendyll family. My mother put me through prep school, and I moved on to Eton.'
`But you came here for the sixth, how's that?'
`I punched a teacher.'
`Jesus! You did! You dangerous dude. Why?'
`I found him interfering with a little kid.'
`Ah ... that's why you don't like gays.'
`In one.'
`But to be a gay is not to be a paedophile, y'know. Had he interfered with you?'
`No, but the kid he was molesting was crying. Anyway, he was arrested and fired, and my mother was asked to withdraw me from the school, as I was being ... difficult.'
`Difficult?'
`You really want to know everything, you nosy little queer.'
`It's part of my charm,' and for the first time Rudi gave a loud laugh.
You do have charm little Henry, in bucket loads. You also give a good assembly.' Henry smiled, and Rudi continued, I had issues with the way the school's power structures worked, and it does have power structures. I booted a member of pop up the arse.'
`That's interesting. I tend to get on well with boys who boot people up arses ... that was how me and Ed made friends.'
`He booted you in the bum?'
`Yes.'
`Weird as well as charming.'
`And what's "pop" when it's at home?'
`It's the inner circle of prefects at Eton who have ridiculous privileges and a high opinion of themselves; the particular prefect I booted just happened to be a Saudi Arabian prince.'
`So I should be privileged to be mown down by you really.'
As you say, Henry. When she was asked to withdraw me, mother chose this school as it has a solid academic reputation and a strong disciplinary tradition. So here I was sent, and for while it looked like it was a bad decision, but now I'm not so sure.' Rudi hesitated, I could be OK here Henry, I begin to see that. But I got off on the wrong foot. You and Ed ... and yes, even Skipper and Peters ... you're good guys. But what can I do to make up for all aggression and unpopularity?'
And Henry began to see the lonely boy he had sensed in Rudi Burlesdon right from the beginning, and sympathised. `You need to relax, Rudi. Hang out with me and the lads. I'll make sure they accept you. Oh, and make it up with David Skipper. He's a great guy, and very popular.'
`That'll be hard.'
`Life is, Rudi. One thing. You said your family name is Rassendyll?'
`Yes. I'm Robert Rudolf Maximilian Rassendyll, twelfth earl of Burlesdon, Viscount Rassendyll and Baron Lowestoft in the peerage of Great Britain. Bit of a mouthful, so us peers abbreviate it down to the title. I like Rudolf as a name, although without the red-nosed reindeer associations, so my mother called me "Rudi" from when I was tiny, and Burlesdon is my title.'
`It's a pleasure meeting you, your lordship.' Rudi got up and shook Henry's hand again. They arranged to have lunch together. But as he left the carrel, Henry still thought there was some mystery here that he had not yet fathomed.
Henry talked it all over with Ed in study period. `You think he's basically OK then?'
Henry nodded, `He's a bit of a classic really. Deep down I think he is a naturally friendly kid, but he has this powerful moral sense which forces him into difficult situations. He doesn't lack courage either, and the result is that he ends up as a scary loner with a reputation for losing it. You can't try to fix the world's problems when you're a teenager, but Rudi can't see it. You've got to feel sorry for him. Also he has this duty thing going. I expect that losing his father at such a young age dumped a lot of expectations on him. He's an earl and he has a stately home and responsibilities coming out his ears. No wonder he's a bit brusque and harsh.'
Ed kissed Henry lightly on the cheek, `I love you, you little softy you. You're always looking for the best in people. So where's his stately home?'
`Somewhere in East Anglia, Burke's Peerage said.'
`And you want me to be nice to him over lunch.'
`Yes. He is your sort, Ed. Powerful and straightforward, although he lacks your kindness and gentleness. But how we reconcile him with Davey, I really don't know. And unless we do, he'll never be accepted. Davey has too many mates who'll always take his side.'
At lunch Rudi came and sat by Ed and Henry and they had an enjoyable enough time. Peters came by and was civil, and a few of the hockey set joined them. They seemed more curious about Rudi than hostile, but when David saw them together he went and sat on another table in the dining hall, with an unreadable but not friendly look on his face. At the lesson bell, Henry and Ed departed for History, while Rudi went towards the block.
After History, Henry had RS and Ed went to the study centre to log in, check out the Rothenian situation and e-mail Fritzy and Nikki. As Henry was returning up the stairs to the study centre, he heard the ominous sound of shouting voices, one of which belonged to his Ed. He ran up the last steps and found a gang of sixth formers looking on as Ed held Rudi down with an arm lock. David was being restrained by two of his tennis mates, there was blood on his lip.
`Now bloody what?' Henry said.
Ed hauled Rudi to his feet, Rudi's face was contorted with pain, as Ed was not being gentle. Westenra, the deputy head boy, looked furious. `What happened, Cornish?' he snapped.
`I walked in on a difference of opinion, Westenra. Burlesdon here took a swipe at Bounder, but they won't say why.' Westenra asked the same question of both boys. They looked furious but refused to excuse themselves.
Then that's it,' Westenra pronounced. Skipper. You're excluded from the block for a week, and Burlesdon, since it's your second offence in one term, you're excluded till after the Easter break. Now get out of my sight. The pair of you are barbarians.'
Henry made Ed a coffee and sat with him on a window seat. `Well that blew up in our faces,' he said sadly.
`You did your best Henry. You couldn't have done more. Don't give up.'
`How did your researches go on the web?'
`I've got a few printouts to look over. I e-mailed the lads, but obviously no reply yet. Fritzy's in school at Modenehem, so I doubt we'll hear from him for a few days. Look at this one first. It's from an EU site on the "Rothenian Achievement". It's about the recent history of German-Slav relations in Rothenia. Seems that an ethnic divide is beginning to open up all over the country, which is at the root of the recent rioting.'
`Apart from the bilingual signs everywhere in Strelzen, I don't remember hearing much German when we were there.'
`Nikki's from a German family I seem to remember, but Germans live more in the south west, around Rechtenstern and in eastern Husbrau, towards the Slovakian border. Anyway, you can summarise the recent history pretty easily. Germans became culturally and economically dominant in old Ruritania, and a German princely house, the Elphbergs, took the throne. Although the old aristocracy was Slav by descent, like the Tarlenheims, they adopted German language and customs, and the majority Rothenian Slavs became an underclass.'
`That I had picked up, but there was a Rothenian revival in the nineteenth century.'
`Yes, and up till then the Elphbergs did a brilliant job of nation making, they had a talent for attaching the Rothenian lower classes to their dynasty. They were really popular. The last of them, Queen Flavia, worked very hard to keep the balance. She sponsored a Rothenian schools movement; patronised Rothenian poets and writers; and made the universities bilingual. The chairs of Rothenian literature and history in the Rodolf University in Strelzen are the Flavia chairs. She made Rothenian fashionable but at the same time managed to keep the German minority on side. A great lady by all accounts. They still put a fresh red rose on her tomb in the cathedral daily, as they have done since she died in 1880.'
`We saw it when we went there with Oskar and Will last year. I thought that was quite a gesture.'
`They also used to celebrate her birthday in the free republic between the wars and Flaviendenn -- Queen Flavia's Day -- was restored in 1990 after the May Rising. But once she was dead things went to the bad. The new dynasty were Germans through and through, and closely related to the Prussian Hohenzollerns. They pulled the plug on government support for Rothenian education and culture. They were overthrown in 1917 after King Albert led a coup to try to bring Ruritania in on the German side in World War One. After that, the First Republic of Marcus Tildemann had little time for the German minority, although they carried on Queen Flavia's bilingual policy. The Germans redeemed themselves in the Second World War by fighting just as hard against the Nazi occupation as the Rothenians. But under communism, of course, Rothenian Germans were looked down upon by association. Bilingualism ended and German language schools were closed. Total repression, made worse by the fact that refugee Germans from the Czech Republic and Hungary settled in Rothenia, and, unlike the native Germans were poor and an underclass.'
`But Rothenia's not like that now, is it?'
`Well, this is where the commentators are divided. The Second Republic after the May Rising made a nod towards ethnic German rights. They brought back bilingualism, and German schools were allowed to open. President Maritz's government made a big thing about this when Rothenia went for EU membership ... what good boys we are, and so on. The EU site goes right over the top about the "Rothenian Achievement". But if you read this stuff from the Rothenian blog sites I can read, it's not such a rosy picture. The government may have allowed German language schools, but didn't give any support. They didn't revive German teaching in the universities and colleges, or the ancient chair of German Literature in the Rodolf University in Strelzen. There's subtle job discrimination too. You can get a government job if you only speak Rothenian, but Germans have to have Rothenian or there is no chance.'
`What's sparking things off, then Ed?'
`Look at this print out from the Economist site. Nice, here's some neat diagrams showing relative levels of income of Germans and Rothenians in the expanding economy. Ethnic Germans are having a bad deal and there are quite a few of them; there is a German voting bloc in Parliament, and it's allied with disgruntled elements in President Maritz's ramshackle government. But over and above that there's been a revival in the right wing Social Democratic Party, the RSDP and between them they're bringing Maritz down.'
`And the riots, where are they coming from?'
`The RSDP is anti-German and a bit racist. It's got lots of ex-communist support. But the Germans too are getting organised now, and have their own party ... bizarrely they call it the Unity Party. The blogs say that both sides are fomenting violence so as to secure their voting base.'
`Rothenia ain't that idyllic a country at the moment then.'
`It never has been, Henry, from what I can see. It just looks idyllic.'