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.
XII
The first bell began ringing from the cathedral of Ss Andrew and Vitalis at ten, and, taking their cue from the mother church, the other bells of Strelzen awoke and sang. The king was coming home. This was not the change ringing Henry knew from England, but the raucous and joyous carillon of continental Europe. The noise swept and surged across the city, it set Henry's nerve ends tingling.
Terry had used his contacts to get them into the Hilton, and he had used his not inconsiderable personal wealth to book them all luxury suites. So Henry and Ed woke in great comfort in an ample bed which they had used to the full the previous night; the smell of their multiple couplings was still hanging in the air. Ed went naked to the windows. He swept back the curtains, looking down on the city from their ninth floor balcony. It all looked quiet from this height, although the air was clanging and reverberating with the sound of the city's bell towers even through the double glazing. Their balcony looked southwards and they could see over the palace grounds to the New City beyond. The Rodolferplaz in the distance was already filling with people.
Ed bounded back to bed, pulled the covers off Henry and slapped his small rump. `Come on little babe, we can't miss any of this.' They showered quickly and dressed. Henry rang David's room and made sure he was downstairs waiting for them. Nathan and Justin were going to do their own thing, while Terry was busy with some jobs Will and Oskar had given him. Henry's wallet was bursting with a huge wad of cash that Terry had pushed into his hands with a kiss.
While he was waiting for Ed to finish up in the bathroom, Henry checked Sky News. Trachtenberg, as expected, had taken the post of interim president, with Maritz retiring. Rudi was expected in Strelzen at noon, and was coming down from Modenehem in a special train. Henry switched to Eastnet. He tuned in just as the broadcast switched to the cathedral square, and to the balcony above the gateway to the abbey of St Waclaw, a former open air pulpit that had been used for the proclamation of Ruritanian kings since the papal bull creating Rudolf I king had been read there in 1644.
With the bells clanging and booming in the background, the mayor of Strelzen, the archbishop and the new minister of the interior stood by as the general commanding the city garrison proclaimed the high and mighty prince, Rudolf sixth of that name, by the grace of God, most faithful king of Ruritania. And as he finished, the boom of the first of the twenty- one gun royal salutes echoed across the city from a battery in the great park at Bila Palaz.
Henry led his friends round the perimeter wall of the palace through streets swarming with happy and excited people. They bought Elphberg flags from the street traders, while David scoffed at the tacky plastic ones showing Rudi's smiling face. Ed bought a few anyway, so he could embarrass Rudi with them when he returned to school.
Big though it was, the Rodolferplaz was packed, and there would have been no getting a view if the boys had not been tipped off to go to Rodolferplaz 33. Will's old friend, a producer and cameraman called Bolslaw Meric, had a fourth floor office and studio on the northwest side of the great square, where he had already set up his cameras in the window.
Hello, English boy queers,' he said, my room is at your disposal.' He was a bald man in his sixties, rather fat and very roguish. Will had told them he was harmless, and not to worry about his mannerisms. They went to shake hands, but he gave them Rothenian double kisses, his moustache brushing their cheeks and giving off the smell of tobacco and what Henry thought might be absinthe. He showed them to his window, tall and wide with plenty of room for them and for his cameras.
They hung out and looked over the packed square: every other window was full of people too, and flags were hanging from most of them. Red and yellow bunting and drapes were everywhere. For the first time in almost a century, workmen had taken out the posts, and the royal drive up the centre of the square had been opened as a processional way, it was lined all the way up to the palace by soldiers in blue full dress uniforms.
Once they had got used to Bolslaw he was very pleasant, if risque, company. He had them open-mouthed with his stories of working in the gay porn empire of Falkefilm. He made no secret of the fact that he thought Will Vincent was the hottest porn actor he had ever seen, though his career had been a brief one. `You knew he was in porn then, naughty boys?'
David and Henry confessed to having seen clips from `An American in Strelzen' and David had subsequently tracked down all Oskar's DVDs.
That Oskar,' said Bolslaw, so beautiful and so uninhibited. One of the greats of course, but he did not have the vulnerable sexiness of sweet Willemu. I wish they'd made more than just that one film, but it still sells hugely for Falkefilm. It's reckoned to be a porn classic. Look across the square and just north of us is Rodolferplaz 12, where Falkefilm has its offices. You can see the pretty boys hanging out the windows of the top floor studios waving flags. The gay community here in Strelzen is very enthusiastic about the new king. Not just that he is quite a hot looking guy, of course. They seem to think that once kings are in fashion, queens may have an easier time. Then there is all the dressing up for the new royal court.'
The boys were laughing by now. He had cokes for them in his office fridge. `You're like a gay grandad, Bolslaw!' Henry said.
`And you're a nice looking boy, Hendrik. If you ever fancy a shoot, you'd take a sexy little set.'
`What, not me?' said David.
Bolslaw gave him a once over, `Not enough character for me, young man. But the more undiscriminating might like you.' David guffawed, not in the least offended.
The boom of an artillery piece rattled the windows and sent the pigeons into the air all over the city. The king had reached the Central Station, and the second royal salute was being given as the municipal authorities greeted their sovereign. Henry asked Bolslaw if he had a TV but was told that he didn't want one either in his office or apartment; he blamed TV for the downturn in the film industry that had been his living. Apparently, he had once worked with Passolini in Italy in the sixties. Henry was impressed.
After about twenty minutes a stir in the crowd and the distant sound of military bands alerted them to the approach of the king. There were orders shouted over the murmur of the crowd, followed by a ripple along the line of soldiers leading up to the palace, as they presented arms. Cheers and applause began to be heard from the Mikhelstrasse where it led into the square. Henry craned around the corner of the window jamb trying to see, Ed was pressing up behind him looking over his shoulder.
Suddenly the sound of military music was loud as a large band entered the square at the head of the procession. The flags began waving and cheers and applause began below them. A squadron of cavalry trotted on to the sanded cobbles of the royal drive, and behind them was Rudi, not in an open carriage as they had expected, but riding a large and beautiful white stallion. He was in what they took to be a Rothenian general's uniform, rich in gold braid and hung with aiguilettes - so that had been the emergency tailoring he had referred to. The red sash and star of the order of the Rose was across his chest. A laced shako in the Austrian style, with tall white plumes, was on his head.
As he entered the square and the roar of the vast crowd reached him, Rudi's horse skittered, but he mastered and checked it. His mounted staff and the marching soldiers behind him stopped. He took off his shako and raised it to the crowd, a huge and boyish grin all over his handsome face, his red hair glowing as if it was lit by something more than Strelzen's sunshine. He was a sight to see, still boyishly vulnerable but full of life and hope. `Long live King Rudolf! Long live the Red Elphberg!' rolled up the square again and again. With a flourish of his cap, the king replaced it and rode on towards his palace, and Henry found his cheeks were wet with tears, as few were not in the Rodolferplaz.
Bolslaw blew his nose. `That I have lived to see such a day,' he muttered in Rothenian.
Ed asked, `Did you get a good one of Rudi on his horse?'
`Rudi, you call our young king Rudi?' Bolslaw's eyebrows were raised.
Of course,' said Ed, didn't Will tell you that we are at school with him?'
Bolslaw's jaw hung loose. `This was not mentioned. Heavens. So you know him well?'
`Well enough to have punched him twice,' grinned David.
Good God!' said the old man, and they spent the next quarter of an hour satisfying his curiosity as to his new king, as they watched soldiers and bands marching in the square below them. Look to the flagstaff over the palace, boys,' he eventually said.
As they watched, the king must have ridden under the palace arch. The large tricolour waving over what had been the presidential palace sank down the flagpole, and in its place was raised for the first time since 1880 the royal banner; not the quartered arms of the despised Thuringians, but the plain red lion on yellow of the Elphbergs. Henry later learned that the banner raised over the palace that day was the same that had been laid over the coffin of Queen Flavia during her state funeral.
The crowd began surging up the square towards the palace gates. The king was going to appear on the balcony. But the boys stayed in his studio with Bolslaw. He pulled a bottle of Rothenian fruit wine out of the fridge and they toasted the health of King Rudolf VI while they viewed Bolslaw's shots. They selected a few and he printed them out, giving them one that he said he wanted them to get the king to sign for him if they had a chance. Then he insisted on taking a few shots of the boys, singly and together, as souvenirs, he said. They signed one of all three of them for the old man. They kissed him back this time when he kissed them. `Goodbye pretty boys ... come back and see me some time soon!' They promised they would.
It was with difficulty and long queuing that they got a late lunch on Mikhelstrasse. Visitors were staying on and partying all over the city, and a huge fireworks display had been promised over the royal palace after sunset. Will, the Tarlenheims and Terry were at a state banquet that evening. All the boys had to do was to buy decent suits, for tomorrow.
`Why?' they asked.
`You're going to church tomorrow, sweet babes,' Terry had said. So they got three suits off the peg at the Mikhelstrasse Top Man with the wad he had given Henry, along with dress shirts and ties. Then they went off to meet Nikki Baltasar, Henry's friend, at his home in Sudmesten. Other kids from the Anglican church youth group in Strelzen turned up, and Nikki's parents had a barbeque out their back garden. Since there was a pool too, it turned into a brilliant afternoon and evening for the lads, and they reckoned when they got back to the hotel just before the fireworks display that they probably had a far better day of it than the others. A phone call brought Nathan and Justin to their balcony and they watched the awe- inspiring display as it erupted from the palace grounds just below them.
`What did you two do today then?' Henry asked Nathan.
You mean when we weren't arguing and sulking?' Justin scowled at him. We watched the parade, and then hit the Wejg. It was half price Guinness in the Irish bar.'
`What's got into you two?' asked Ed.
Not saying,' said Justin. Don't seem that Lord fuckin Underwood here will let anyone do anyone a favour.'
`Cut it out, Justy.'
`No, you.'
`I give in.'
`Good.'
Terry was tapping his foot waiting for the boys the next morning, few things annoyed him, but the exception was bad timekeeping, and Justin and Nathan were late.
Whassup with you two?' he snarled at them both. Nathan was in awe of Terry and was not happy that he was angry with him. He mumbled something apologetic. Well bloody sort it out quick,' Terry snapped. `And if I think it's what it is, then you're being totally moronic, Nathan. You should have learned by now that Justin may be wild, but he can be trusted. Now pull yourselves together, the car's here.'
A limousine had slid up under the hotel's front canopy. The doorman smiled and saluted as he opened the door for them to get in. There was room for six with the fold down seats behind the driver. Henry,' said Terry, tell the guy to get us to the cathedral and step on it. We should have been there ten minutes ago.' Nathan wilted as Terry glared at him.
They were not the only people late that morning. A tailback of limousines was queueing along the south side of the cathedral, and all sorts of elegantly dressed people were getting out, some wearing decorations and orders. When their turn came, Terry led them through the south transept door past a line of cavalrymen with drawn swords. The former mounted section of the Presidential Guard had been reconstituted as the revived Royal Lifeguard, and new uniforms were on order.
They had good seats, just behind the ambassadors and EU commissioners. It was to be a pontifical mass and Te Deum for the restoration of the monarchy. Rudi had vetoed the idea of a coronation in the old style on the grounds of cost and obsolescence, but he would receive anointing and take the coronation oath after the ministry of the Word. The music too was drawn from the tradition of European coronation rituals. They slid into seats next to Will Vincent, who was eagerly scanning the programme for the musical content.
For Henry, it was just fascinating to sit there and soak in the atmosphere of a great state occasion in a venerable and historic church. Across from them in the north transept he could see the faces of prime ministers, presidents and other European royals who had been able to fly in, and there facing them was him, little Henry Atwood from Trewern. He beamed with delight at the incongruity of it all. TV cameras were up in the triforium, he resisted the temptation to wave and shout `Hi Mum!'. He'd rung her that morning and told her to watch the televised broadcast from Rothenia.
A fanfare ripped through the murmuring in the church. Following a great procession of ecclesiastical dignitaries, and flanked by guards officers in the elaborate uniforms of the nineteenth century with swords, came the king, his arm resting on that of the cardinal archbishop and his train carried by ten pages. A great anthem welled up from the choir, and the service was under way.
Would have been better if we could have had a big tub of popcorn -- the sweet stuff, not the salty -- like in UGC in Ipswich,' was the only complaint that Justin had to make. Was impressive, and Rudi did a good job. Looked cool in that white uniform and that long robe type thing. Did well not to trip over it. Liked his chair too.' Henry told him he loved him.
Following the mass, in which Terry and Justin, both Catholics, communicated, they picked up their car again and this time headed down to the royal palace, up the Rodolferplaz and through the gates. Justin and Henry waved enthusiastically at the crowds waving at them. Justin began blowing kisses, until Terry gave him a stern look.
`Wass happening now, Uncle Terry?' Justin asked.
`Buffet in the palace, I'm told, and the first royal levee in nearly a century.'
`Wass a levy when iss at home?'
`You stand around and make inane conversation with inane people and get your picky taken with His Majesty.'
`Aw right. Iss not fun then?'
`No.'
But in fact it was great fun. Henry found himself talking to a boy of his own age, foreign but with perfect English. They soon found they had common ground: an interest in strategy games, and they swopped tactical hints on several of Henry's favourite games. The foreign lad, Henry and Ed copped three glasses of fruit wine from a footman and had a good laugh in the corner. Henry wasn't sure, but he thought he got an open invitation to Stockholm at some point.
Will gave Henry a smile as the group separated, `Get on OK with Gustav did you?'
`You know him?'
`He's the Crown Prince of Sweden: you should read more celebrity mags.'
Rudi had changed into a morning suit, and was circulating very regally, accompanied by Mr Pokolosky, the royal chamberlain, and Oskar, who had been invested as count of Modenehem that morning and appointed chief of staff and private secretary to the king. After about three quarters of an hour, a trumpeter gave a brief fanfare, and palace servants brought in an unsheathed sword and a kneeler. They placed the kneeler on the lowest step of the dais of the throne. The king took the sword and went up to his throne. Royal brothers and cousins, my lords and ladies, gentlemen,' he began, One of the pleasanter duties of monarchy is the reward of those who have done great service to the nation. I hope this assembly will bear with me as I do just that, and there are several people in this room worthy of high honour. When your names are called out please go to the chamberlain, and he will instruct you as to what to do.'
The former president, Mr Maritz, was called out and smiled as he was cited for his great services to Rothenia in the post-communist period, he knelt to receive the grand cordon of the order of the Rose and was awarded also the title of baron. There was great applause. Several of his former cabinet received lesser honours. Then a loud voice called out Mr Willem Vincent'. Will looked very grave as he went up to receive the grand cordon of the order of the Rose, and came back beaming, resplendent in red sash, star and gold chain. But then Mr Terence O'Brien' was called, and he looked stunned as he was pushed forward by a shove from Will. He knelt to receive the order of the Rose, and the accolade of knighthood, and he came back with ribbon and star looking as if he was in a dream. Several generals and officers received decorations, including Major Antonin, but as Henry thought it was all over, the voice called out Mr Henry Atwood'. His knees went wobbly as he saw a lane open in front of him and he knelt in front of a grinning Rudi to have the ribbon and medal of the sovereign's personal order of Henry the Lion, second class, placed round his neck. Gotcha, you little queer,' the king whispered to him as he shook his hand. `Bastard,' Henry whispered back. Ed, David, Justin and Nathan got the same award each in turn.
My,' said Edward as they stared at each other, don't we all look distinguished.'