Brian's Adventures Ch. 01

Chapter One: The Calling Of The Road

I would not consider myself a greedy or selfish person, rather the opposite. I'm the type who looks out for others around me at the cost of myself. I have never wanted castles or other frivolous flights of fancy that Lords and Kings consider important. I have always been a good God-fearing man and have tried to live my life as he would want me to. In truth all I ever wanted was to be happy and live a good life. I didn't want to be rich or powerful, that just wasn't me. I never shied away from my duty or hard work and I still don't. I still am at heart what I always was, the son of a simple peasant farmer. I just had a run of luck I suppose; some good, some bad, but I assure you it was mostly good times even in troubled times.

I never wanted power because I didn't like what power seemed to do to people. When I was a young man still living at home I saw routinely the way that the local Lord behaved and wanted none of such things. It was not until much later that I realized that it was more the character of the man that dictated how he reacted to power. A good man might handle power better than one that craves it, however rarely does one who does not seek power get it thrust upon him.

I craved no riches either because that seemed to rot the soul and pervert the heart of the purest of men. I didn't love being dirt poor; I simply didn't want the lust for money that surely accompanied great wealth. Money can do wondrous things such as see that God's work on earth continues and surly no man can say that is evil. We all need money to a certain degree to feed our families and you cannot say that is an evil thing either. Surely it is not fair to hate a man whom God has blessed with more riches than you and I know this. However there are those men who are never satisfied with the wealth they have and constantly scheme and deal for ever more wealth. That lust for money is what soured me on the quest for money that many men spend their lives pursuing.

However, I also saw that my father worked hard from sunup to sundown to carve out a meager existence for all of us. Somehow he seemed happy with his lot in life, though I doubt he ever truly was. As for me, I wanted more than to die a poor peasant farmer like countless men before me. I didn't care to be rich mind you, but I wanted a better life to be sure. My name is Brian Westlock and the story I am about to tell you as strange as it may seem, is true.

My father tended the small patch of land that his father had tended before him and his before him and so on back farther than I can imagine. A long line of men in our family had tended this little plot of land trying to feed his family, pay his taxes and serve God. There was no end of work to be done and little to show for it, though I rarely ever heard my father complain.

My father was a man who did the best he could to provide for his family and his faith in God never wavered even in the hardest of times. He did the only thing he knew how and did the best that he could. At the time I thought he was a man who had given up on life, that he wanted nothing more than what he had. I doubt it was true, I doubt that he was truly happy being a peasant farmer, always one meal away from starvation. However, he seemed content with his life and I can see now how liberating that can be. I guess he believed that his life was as good as it was going to get so you might as well make the best of it. While it may seem like a limiting way to view life, for him he was making the best of a bad situation with a positive attitude. There is something to be said with being content with what God has given you.

At the time I saw my father as a petty tyrant, taking his daily frustrations out on me, while that may be the slightest bit true. I see now that he was trying to shape me into the man that he wanted me to be. I understood only years later that he was doing what he thought was best for me. I see now that he was trying to give me the skills and type of character I would need to make it in this hard life. Only now years after I last saw him do I fully appreciate the man that my father was. It was not until some time later that I fully appreciated the effect that he had on me, how he shaped me into the man I am. I never got the chance to thank him for that, I hope that he knew how I felt, that I respected him for that.

I grew up in a small town near what I thought was a grand church, though modest it may be. The Local Lord built it more for his own glory more than his desire to be closer to God. However it did mean that there was a good church to attend on Sunday and good deal of learned men around. I spent many hours in the evening talking to the fathers about the distant places they had seen, I tried to learn as much as I could. One in particular took pity on me and taught me to read and write, something I was very proud of at the time.

All in all I do remember mostly happy times from those days of my youth. There were hardships and hard work to be sure but looking back now I see things differently than I did when I was young. Now I mostly remember the happy times spent with my brothers and sisters working that accursed piece of ground. Looking back I remember the pleasant things about that little town and the humble farm that I'm sure looks much the same today as it did when I left.

The local Lord was not as nice or generous as people would have liked him to be but I doubt he was as cruel and heartless as they gave him credit for. The taxes he levied were crippling and it would take generations to get even the slightest bit ahead. I never once saw him show the slightest bit of compassion or remorse when he tossed a family off his lands, taking everything they had for "unpaid taxes". However, I can only guess the number of "sob stories" he must have heard on a daily basis, you must get numb to it after a while.

Happily though, the local lord was not a power-hungry one. All he wanted was for you to pay your taxes and he would leave you alone for the most part. It was a small blessing but at least you were not marching off to your death so he can gain power and influence in some far off place. Many Lords of the time were like that and thankfully our Lord was not.

As I got older, things didn't settle quite right with me, I was happy on one level but yet I was not satisfied. I couldn't explain it, I loved my family and my home but yet something was pulling at me to leave. I felt more and more out of place the older I got. That is an odd feeling to have about the only home you have ever known. I started to get the feeling that God had other plans for me; I started to get the feeling that I was not meant to stay at my home. I guess it was inevitable, sooner or later I would have left regardless I see that now. By the time I was a young man of twenty, my heart yearned to see lands outside the humble hamlet that had been my home.

At the time I was not that bad to look at, after all I was a relatively young man. At the time that my story begins, I was somewhat of a handsome man for my years, or so I have been told. However, the ladies that have told me that were all those that loved me, so their opinion may be a bit biased. While I may have not liked farming, the hard work that farming demands had kept my body in fit and trim shape. My light brown hair was short and trim, most definitely off the shoulders. My eyes are still a grand and glorious blue, much to the delight of the ladies who have looked into them, (or so they say). As I have been told my face is perhaps slightly on the plain side but not homely or hard on the eyes. Although it has been said that my face was even nicer to look at on back then and that is understandable. As for the more personal regions of my body I may want to shy away from such discussions but I know that you're curious. Well let's say that my cock while being of average length (about six inches), it is slightly thicker than most men's cocks. The ladies I have pleasured over the years have not complained about my equipment.

I remember the day I left like it was yesterday and while I had hoped to leave that day, it was not intended to be the way it turned out. It was a cool spring morning, the sun was shining and a warm breeze blew lightly out of the east as it always had. The sweet sent of the wildflowers from on the hill and just beyond is something I will always remember. The tall grass and grain blowing to and fro on the wind was a peaceful thing to see. I paused for a moment at Mr. Osterant's door looking at the view afforded by the hilltop house.

Mr. Osterant was the local Merchant of many things, and the most successful man in our little corner of England. He was not a rich man by many standards, but in comparison to my father he seemed as rich as a King. I was intrigued with him from a very young age. I got to know him as I hung around his house and shop. I was greatly interested in what he did, considering it was not farming. As far as merchants go he was a kind and good man, though he knew the value of a coin to be sure. At a young age he was a hero of mine you might say, and I was trying to have him take me on as an apprentice.

"Can I help you?" A pleasant voice asked from behind me.

"Yes, is Mr. Osterant in?" I inquired respectfully to the tall woman who stood in the door of the beautiful house.

It was Mrs. Osterant standing before me with her once chestnut brown wavy hair that was now mostly gray drifting slightly on the light breeze. Her soft smooth skin now started to show a few more wrinkles than I'm sure she would have preferred but she was still a pretty woman. She carried a few extra pounds on her tall and still somewhat slender frame and her once high and proud breasts sagged a bit. In despite all of these telltale signs of age she never turned bitter or lamented at the loss of her youthful body.

She was a woman who remained as nice, and kind as she ever was and always had a smile for you when she saw you. I always admired her and liked her genuinely jovial nature in despite of anything that was happening around her. She was a woman who went out of her way to see that you were happy and well taken care of before giving a thought to herself.

"He left earlier this morning for London." Mrs. Osterant replied with a concerned look on her face yet trying to hide it. "Is there something I can help you with?" Mrs. Osterant inquired as she put her hand on her hip and held an inquisitive look about her.

I was hurt and a little upset, he had promised to take me with him on his trip to London. He was going there on business and had promised to make me his assistant. I didn't understand why a man I respected and claimed to be a God-fearing man would break his word to me. He had not done so before and this new development troubled me and seemed to be out of character for the usually honorable man. He seemed so certain and genuine in his assertion to take me on, what had changed I wondered as I looked into the face of his beautiful wife.

I was looking forward to the journey, I wanted to see far off lands and learn some kind of profession, anything but farming. The only thing I was certain of was that I did not want to be a farmer. I had little idea of what I wanted to be or what God had in store for me but I hoped it was not farming. A peasant farmer was the one thing I was certain that I didn't want to be. I had had my fill of farming and didn't want to work another patch of ground as long as I lived.

"I don't understand Mrs. Osterant, he promised to take me with him to London. He told me he was going to take me on as his assistant." I said looking down and feeling dejected.

I felt trapped in a place I didn't belong in anymore I was feeling like my last ticket out of this town was gone. I was beginning to feel the hills close in on me, the only town I had ever known as home began to feel too small to me. I started to feel restless and agitated, like I was behind schedule though nobody had given me the schedule I was to stick to.

"I know you were looking forward to the trip Brian." The kind older woman said with genuine sorrow in her voice. "He did tell me to let you know how sorry he was that things did not work out as you both had planned." She added with a bit of compassion. "Certain . . . complications had arisen at the last minute, that's all." Mrs. Osterant finished evasively and dismissively.

"Complications? What complications?" I asked prying a little, doubting that I was being told the whole truth as yet. "Well you understand, things being what they are this year." She said fumbling with her hands and her words. "Perhaps he can take you with him next time." The woman spoke as she looked at me with a bit of hope sparkling in her blue eyes. "I am sorry, it just wasn't meant to be this time." She finished and put her hand on my shoulder in an effort to comfort me from the saddening news.

"But things are fine this year." I asserted a little more forcefully than I needed to. "There are plenty of hands to see the work be done." I replied disbelievingly with a twinge of indignation. "Who said things were too hard for me to go?" I asked half knowing the answer, my blood boiling under my skin. I still tried to keep a civil tongue in my head for she had not wronged me.

"Your father came by and had a talk with us last night." A now quite nervous and uncomfortable Mrs. Osterant said. "He seemed to think that it would be best for everyone if you were not to go this time." She said before turning to leave. "If there is nothing further, I have other things to attend to." She finished and looked quite perturbed about the whole unpleasant business.

"Thank you M'lady." I said respectfully before turning to leave, knowing not to press the matter further with her.

I was still quite upset and angry with my father as I made my way down the hill toward his stall at the town market. He had said more than a few things in recent weeks trying to discourage my attempts to be Mr. Osterant's assistant. Now however he had interfered and had gone too far so I was going to let him know my displeasure. As I approached his stall he smiled at me but that smile trickled away the longer he looked at my angry face.

"Hello lad, you're just in time to lend a hand selling our cabbages!" He said in hopes to distract my focus from my anger. "How would you like to run the shop?" He said with a broad smile as he indicated the stand he was at.

It was little more than a box turned on its end and dressed up a little. It was in the heart of the modest market where everyone bought and sold what they had to make a few coins. In truth most of the money that changed hands here would go for taxes. However it was the modest bit of commerce, we had there. Most times we would barter with each other for what we needed. If you wanted anything that was not at the market, you spoke to Mr. Osterant.

Mr. Osterant would buy whatever crops we couldn't sell locally and haul them to London and sell them there. Then he would pick up anything that you wanted and haul it back here and sell it to you. He made money both ways but made you think he was losing money both ways. He was not hurting for cash to be sure, however he was not much better off than the rest of us, it just appeared that way.

"Why did you tell Mr. Osterant that I wasn't going with him to London?" I demanded with a stern look that scared away a lady who was about to talk to him. "Now son, I know you were looking forward to that trip, but your place is here with your family." He said in a soothing tone of voice, trying to comfort me in my time of disappointment.

"I don't want to be a farmer father! I want to make something of myself." I replied curtly, my eyes still held his as I glared at him, not hiding my anger in the slightest.

"You don't need to leave to make something of yourself son." Father said in a most upbeat tone as he put his arm around me and kept one hand on the market stand. "How would you like to run your own shop eh?" he added in a most excited tone of voice. "Why would you want to chase after that Mr. Osterant doing his bidding when you can run your own shop right here. And . . . and you will be helping out your family as well." My father said and paused for a moment before continuing in a more subdued tone. "I can't spend all my time at the market, and I can't be in two places at once. So I need someone I can trust, someone who is mature and has a head for commerce lad." My father stopped and looked me in the eye. "I need you son. I need you to run the shop here so I can look after things at the farm." He finished off and waited for me to say something.

I thought for a moment over what he had to say and in truth it changed little about what I was upset over. It was a generous offer I suppose and it was the best thing he had to offer me. As I pondered what it would be like to stand there day after day trying to sell cabbages for a few coins I knew I wouldn't like it. I had convinced myself that I was unhappy with farming more than anything. In truth I didn't like it much but that was not the real reason I wanted to be Mr. Osterant's assistant. His trips to London were the real draw, the fact that he left town on a regular basis intrigued me more. I wanted to leave more than I wanted to be a merchant's apprentice.

It was at that point that I realized that if I wanted to leave and go to London, I could do that myself. For the first time in my life I realized that I was a free man, if I wanted to go to the city than I could do just that. I thought nothing of the long journey, the food needed, clothing, shelter or any other of the necessities. All I thought of was the simple fact that the only thing standing between London and me was the distance. At the time it seemed a simple matter to overcome, a simple jaunt down the road if you will.

"No father." I said respectfully.

"Don't answer now, give it a few days with me, I'll learn you up fine." My father said ignoring my refusal of his offer. "Give it a few days and you'll see it's truly the best thing." He said shaking me at the shoulder, trying to get me as excited about his idea as he was, it was not working.

"No father, I can't run the shop." I said regretfully, knowing I was going to hurt him.

I didn't like the idea of letting him down and I knew I was doing just that but I felt more out of place than ever. I knew somehow that my life's calling lay somewhere down the road, far away from the place I grew up. While leaving my family and friends was hard to do, I knew deep down that it was the right thing to do. I had a sense of peace at that moment as I had finally made my mind up to leave my home and follow the calling of the road.

"C'mon son, Mr. Osterant has left for London already. Work with me here at the market and when he gets back if you still want to tear after him." My father paused and swallowed hard once before continuing with a tear in his eye. "If you still want to tear after him when he gets back, I won't stand in your way." He said with a quivering lip and hidden, hurt look on his face. "What do you say lad? That's as fair and sensible offer as you can get. Listen to reason my boy. You can't do much until he gets back at any rate." My father waited for me to respond believing that his offer was the only sensible course.

"You don't understand father, I don't belong here anymore." I said with a heavy heart and a sigh.

"Of course you do!" My father responded with a confused look. "Your place is with your family and you know it!" He finished with a perturbed tone of his own trying to hide his own anger.

"No father, I have to leave." I said firmly but with a strained heart.

"Don't be silly boy! Where would you go? What would you do?" My father said indignantly, with an angry tone that he tried to keep out of his voice but was unsuccessful to do so.