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 GEEKED

MATCHMAKERS BOOK 2
DECLAN RHODES
Copyright © 2019 by Declan Rhodes
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or
mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without
written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a
book review.
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Just click the link below.
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 CONTENTS

1. Blake
2. Hunter
3. Blake
4. Hunter
5. Blake
6. Hunter
7. Blake
8. Hunter
9. Blake
10. Hunter
11. Blake
12. Hunter
13. Blake
14. Hunter
15. Blake
16. Hunter
17. Blake
18. Hunter
19. Blake
20. Hunter
21. Blake
Epilogue - Six Months Later - Hunter

Mismatched - Matchmakers Book 1

Also by Declan Rhodes
About the Author
 1

BLAKE

“O h, damn, ‘scuse me. I didn’t mean to…”

Gazing up into a handsome bearded face, I noticed that
the stranger didn’t even feel my brush against his shoulder. He was
too busy sipping wine and yucking it up with another man who
would be available in the night’s auction.
As I turned away, I collided with someone else in black tie formal
wear. He must have stood at least six foot, four inches tall. I was like
the pinball in an arcade game outfitted with handsome tuxedo-clad
men as the bumpers.
Pivoting in yet another direction, I tripped over a pair of shiny black
leather dress shoes. Reaching out to brace myself, I felt my hands
come to rest on the firm pecs of a guy with the shoulders of a
football player.
I bit my lip while I fought to catch my breath. It was impossible to
resist a light squeeze against the muscle.
Before I had the chance to apologize for my clumsy nature, he said,
“Hey, guess I’d better watch where I’m going.”
The voice had a deep, rumbling bass tone, and the man’s eyes were
kind with adorable, sweet crinkles at the corners.
I said, “It’s my big clunky feet. Size twelve. I tripped.”
“I guess we’re all a little nervous about this. I’ve never been
auctioned off like a calf at the county fair before.”
He thought I was part of the group that would soon take the stage.
If that were true, I didn’t get the clothing memo. I was in a dark
navy blue sports jacket, not a black tux. The only way I’d be onstage
was if they wanted to sell plain, geeky guys instead of the striking
gay bachelors that filled the room.
“I’m not up for auction.” I thrust a hand forward. “Blake Moss. I’m
the computer software wrangler for Match Made.”
“Ah, so you’re the one to blame if nobody bids on me.”
The smirk on his face and sparkle in his eye told me that he wasn’t
serious. I breathed a sigh of relief. We were celebrating Match
Made’s five successful years in the upscale gay matchmaking
business with a charity date auction.
I said, “What could go wrong? We’ve got a roomful of perfect
CinderFellas.”
I started to turn on my right heel, but then I thought of one more
question I wanted to ask. The crowd was packed too tightly to
sweep the man far away. I tapped him on one of the broad
shoulders, and he turned back toward me.
“You’re a client. Have we found any dates for you yet?”
“One, but it was bad timing.”
“He found somebody else?”
“No, we had a great first date, but his company stepped in.
Relocation to the West Coast killed any possibilities for a future
together.”
I asked, “And you couldn’t follow him?”
There was something warm and genuine about the guy who looked
like a gussied up NFL lineman.
“No, I love my work here in Milwaukee. I take care of my
grandparents, and I’ve got my fingers and thumbs into too many
volunteer projects. Moving’s out of the question.”
I did my best to smile broadly and not look like a deranged dork
doing it. I was a sucker for guys that took care of Grandma or Great
Aunt Penelope. I always found myself mouthing, “He’s the right
one,” when a guy like that showed up in a cheesy chick flick. As I
looked closer at his face, I thought that he probably had a dog
adopted from the shelter, too.
“You know, I’ve got a question for you, too…Blake?”
I felt that prickly sensation on the back of my neck that happened
any time someone pushed for more details about me.
“Yeah? I’ll try to answer.”
He rose onto his toes to see over the crowd. “Where do I go next?”
My heart stopped pounding. “First, you check in with Iris.”
I pointed across the room at a woman with long, dark hair. “She’ll
give you a number for your spot in line. Then she’ll lead you out to
the stage when the auction starts.”
“Thanks.” He reached out and squeezed my shoulder. “And you’re
cute, too. Maybe you should be up there next time. I’d have to fight
off the other bidders.”
While the man headed off deftly knifing his way through the crowd,
my jaw dropped. I couldn’t remember ever receiving a compliment
like that, much less from such a stunning hunk of a guy.
Stepping carefully to avoid tripping again, I made my way to a
corner of the room. There, I could stay out of the way and regain
my composure while I listened to the soft cocktail jazz filtering
through the air. It was a slick version of a familiar song, and I
pressed my lips tightly together to avoid singing along out loud.
Daniel, my boss and, with me, a co-founder of Match Made,
appeared seconds later. He looked lost and more than a little bit
worried.
While Daniel spoke, I mused that he was the one of the two of us
that belonged in the auction. He had an impressive muscular frame,
and his prematurely salt-and-pepper gray hair was always perfectly
groomed. His primary fault was that he desperately needed someone
to tell him when it was time to take a break from work. The
matchmaking service was his 24/7 obsession.
After he spotted me, Daniel made a beeline in my direction like he’d
found a safe port in a storm.
“Did you ever think it’d turn out like this? CinderFella was your
suggestion, Blake.”
“I guess I hoped we’d get it right, yeah.”
“We must have at least two dozen men up for bids,” said Daniel. “I
hope this crowd’s primed and ready to open their wallets.”
“It’ll be embarrassing if the bids are a dud.”
With a quick shake of his head, Daniel said, “Not worried. They
know it’s for charity. The youth center will be flush with cash after
we’re done tonight.”
I tried to keep my mind focused on the conversation, but like a mass
gathering of squirrels spotted by a dog, the men clustering around
Iris distracted me. I found the man with the shoulders. He turned to
the side, and I focused on another part of his body. His tailored tux
pants stretched tight in all the right places.
“Who are you looking at?” asked Daniel. “It’s a bunch of beefcake.
They’re not your style.”
I bit my lip before speaking. I hoped my words would sound
thoughtful and appropriately detached.
“Just glancing around. I’m speculating about the bids. If they pull
what they’re worth, we’ll have a massive success on our hands. And
I’m watching Iris, too.”
“No, it wasn’t Iris. I saw you looking at the third guy from the front
of the line. The one who looks like a former high school linebacker.”
“If you knew, why’d you ask?”
Daniel said, “Not so much him in general. It was the specific focus of
your gaze. I saw it.”
I cringed. It was the third time in less than two weeks that I’d tried
to hide staring at men from Daniel. An old itch was starting to
surface again. I guessed it was the impact of seeing so many great
eligible bachelors come through Match Made and end up part of a
happy long-term couple. Who knew there were so many good guys
in the city?
About ten days ago, Daniel found me scoping out a cheesy website
that focused on select physical attributes of members of the U.S.
men’s swimming team. A few days later, he walked into my office,
coffee in hand, and spotted a site on my computer screen dedicated
to shirtless men in sci-fi TV and movies. I didn’t click over to the
trivia site for Outer Spaces soon enough. Daniel saw the half-naked
men.
Returning my thoughts to the present, I tried to explain my gaze. My
voice sounded weak.
“I was checking out the tailoring of the tuxes. I think they did well.
It needs to be right. People do actually judge books by their covers.”
Daniel said, “You particularly noticed how the pants fit over that
guy’s butt. I hope the tailors didn’t get that wrong.”
My mouth felt all cottony inside. When I first met Daniel, I was still
reeling from the pain of a horrific breakup. Instead of stumbling into
a situation of needing to talk about my relationships with men, I
pretended to be into women instead. I was a cheerful ally of the gay
community, but I presented myself as firmly in the heterosexual
camp in my own life. Through the years, I piled on more comments
until I asserted that I didn’t find men sexually appealing at all. That
was a lie.
Daniel stroked his chin, and he decided to test me on the spot.
“Look all around the room. Tell me which woman would be your
dream date. Which one would you take to bed if you could?”
What Daniel didn’t know was that I’d already been in bed with one
of the women in the room. One time I dragged Iris along with me to
a computer software conference. She was our receptionist and
public face for Match Made. I wanted somebody with me to share
meals and fill the gaps between workshops and speeches.
Iris was more than adequate at executing the role. One evening, I
blew off my professional meetings so I could plant myself in bed
with Iris in the hotel room. She was a perfect TV binge buddy.
We both sat in the king-sized bed munching the over-priced snacks
from the mini-bar and gossiping about our favorite Match Made
customers while viewing old Battlestar Galactica episodes.
“Well?” asked Daniel. He started to tap his foot. Although he was
sometimes inappropriate and even a little rude, Daniel wasn’t only
my boss, he was also my best friend in a world where I kept mostly
to myself.
I considered making up a new story about a random woman in the
room. I loved the sour lemon expression on Daniel’s face when I
suggested that he try kissing a woman.
An even stronger urge to finally tell the truth was bubbling up inside.
I was a good guy who didn’t keep secrets from his friends. I only
had the one.
“Do I have to answer this question?”
“It’s probably the most awkward place on record for true confessions
time,” said Daniel. “A man with a more delicate touch than me would
save this conversation for later. Maybe over a drink or two.”
I was hopeful and raised one eyebrow. “Sounds like a good idea.”
He shook his head. “I want to know now. The auction is about to
begin, and I could make a case for you having more interest in men
than you’ve ever let on.”
I’d lost the fight. At least I could try and make sure that I was only
confessing to Daniel, not the entire room. After another quick glance
at tux pants fitting perfectly over three different rounded butts, I
stepped forward and pushed Daniel as far into the corner as
possible.
I swept one hand to the right. “It’s like this.” My nerves caused me
to shift my weight back and forth from one foot to the other. “Yeah,
okay, fine. I’m into guys.”
I expected a smirk and perhaps, “I knew it all the time.”
Instead, Daniel’s face lit up with a huge smile. “This is great. I don’t
know why you kept it from me. Thanks for trusting me. That’s huge.”
I rotated my right hand in a circle. “Okay, now get the gloating over
with, and yeah, we’ll have to tell Iris, too.”
“No gloating. Why’d you keep it from us in the first place?”
“It’s a long, long story. I can’t get it out before this thing starts. I’ve
got a question, though. Who’s the guy you caught me looking at?
You know all their names.”
“Hunter. It’s Hunter Schultz.”
I couldn’t stop myself from running the Grace Jones disco song,
“The Hunter Gets Captured By the Game,” through my head. If it
was cheesy sci-fi or old disco, I was on it. For either topic, I was like
a walking encyclopedia. I moved my mouth to form the syllables,
“Hun-ter,” but I didn’t let any sound come out.
Daniel was still stuck on my confession.
“How long’s it been since you last dated a guy? Have you been
keeping those a secret, too?”
“No, I’m the geeky recluse that you think I am. It’s been almost ten
years since D-Day.”
“D-Day?”
“Demolition Day. Ten years since George first swung his wrecking
ball at our relationship. I was in college and a week short of my 20th
birthday. If you insist on hearing more of the sad, pathetic story, I’ll
tell you later.”
“You let his ridiculous actions put your sex life on hold…for years?”
“Yeah. I’m not proud of it.”
The auction interrupted my string of confessions. Daniel reached out
and tugged on the shoulders of my jacket.
“You clean up well. The 80s called and want that skinny tie back, but
otherwise, it all looks good.”
Daniel pushed my sandy brown hair off my forehead and to the side.
He was acting so much like a mom that I braced myself for a dab on
the cheek with a wet napkin.
I said, “We’d better get out front if we want to see what’s going on.”
We emerged at the side of the main ballroom as Iris was welcoming
the crowd. She dressed smartly in a cobalt blue dress that hugged
her body in all the right places.
Iris held a hand to her forehead like a visor. “My two primary
collaborators in Match Made are out there somewhere.”
I waved my hand high in the air, but she didn’t see it.
Iris said, “The spotlights make it impossible to see anybody from up
here. I’ll trust they made themselves known. Maybe seeing nothing
but bright glaring lights will be a good thing for our eligible
bachelors tonight.”
Iris ushered the first man up for auction onto the stage and let
Louis, our hired auctioneer, take over. We found him through
suggestions from state fair connections. He’d worked as an
auctioneer throughout Wisconsin. His bid calling made a striking
man in a tux sound like a prize steer.
“Let’s get closer to the front of the audience,” said Daniel. “We want
to see everything that’s going on.”
He tugged on the sleeve of my jacket. I stumbled over my clunky,
dorky feet while I followed in Daniel’s wake. He moved with the
smooth elegance of a tango dancer.
We both blinked hard when the first date went for $900 and the
second broke $1,000.”
I whispered in Daniel’s ear. “Do we get bonuses from this? I think
the take is going to be huge. A lot more than we thought.”
“Shh, your guy is coming up next.”
“My…?” Only in my dreams was the next guy mine. It was Hunter.
Standing center stage with his hands tucked behind his back, he
took my breath away.
Iris rattled off biographical details before Louis asked for bids. She
said that Hunter worked with local kids. She didn’t give specifics. I
wondered whether he was a teacher or perhaps a football coach.
Maybe he was both.
Louis called for a first bid, and I thought Daniel forgot that the
bidding was starting. He casually raised a hand. I thought it was by
accident. Louis saw the gesture and nodded in Daniel’s direction.
When the bids jumped to the next level, I leaned in close to Daniel.
“You’d better keep your hand down, or you’ll lose some profits for us
on this one. Louis thinks you’re bidding.”
Daniel’s hand casually waved again, and my eyes met his for a brief
moment. He didn’t say anything, and I laughed nervously.
After the third bid, I knew that Daniel wasn’t doing it by accident. I
froze. It can’t be.
The bids continued to climb, and Daniel outlasted all of the
competition. He wanted to win the bid. His efforts wouldn’t have
bothered me in the least if I knew that he was finally going on a
date.
That wasn’t his aim. Goosebumps rose on my forearms. I knew that
Daniel was buying the date for me!
When the bidding for Hunter concluded, Iris had a mile-wide grin on
her face. I might have thought she was conspiring with Daniel if I
didn’t know he was the only one in on my secret. She couldn’t see
well enough to know who won the bid. She was happy about the
high cost and what it meant for the proceeds going to the youth
center.
Hunter looked slightly stunned. He was the most expensive date so
far. His shocked expression only made him more adorable in my
eyes. I daydreamed about kissing his lips. Surely, I wouldn’t get that
far when we met. It had to remain a private dream.
After glancing at Daniel one more time, I thought about meeting
Hunter face to face. Our scheduled date was an hour together in the
park across the street from our auction venue. My hands closed
tight, and my muscles seized up. I didn’t know what I would say or
do. There was no way that I could live up to the money Daniel spent
for me.
Iris congratulated the crowd on the high bid for Hunter. They all
applauded. My eyes darted furtively around the room, looking for a
trapdoor to help me make a quick escape.
Daniel turned toward me. “He’s yours.” I didn’t know what to say.
I started to ask, “Why?” He cut me off.
“I won’t force you into the date, but I think it’d be worth at least
sitting and talking with Hunter. That’s what this is for.”
“But…me?”
“He’s a great guy, one of the best in the pool, and I think he’ll
understand how fantastic you are when he has a few minutes alone
with you.”
My knees felt rubbery. I never knew how to handle sincere
compliments.
“If the required date is all you want, no harm, no foul,” added
Daniel. “Consider this my little boost in the right direction. If you’re
going after men again, you need to stick your big toe back in the
water and get it wet.”
Iris asked Hunter whether he had anything that he wanted to say to
the crowd. He boldly stepped forward and took the microphone in
his hand.
“I want to thank Match Made for inviting me to take part in this
fantastic event. As many of you know, I’m the director at the
LGBTQ+ Youth Center here in the city, and I want to offer a special
thank you to everyone bidding tonight. It comes from the bottom of
my heart. Rest assured that all of your contributions are going to a
great cause. The kids deserve our support. They are our future.”
Hunter started to hand the microphone back to Iris, but then he
added the part that made my throat tighten. “And I can’t wait to
meet my date. His identity will be a big surprise.”
It will be a surprise alright. I hung my head for a moment. I couldn’t
believe that Hunter was the head of the Youth Center. His place was
the reason for the entire event. I was matched with the star of the
evening. My shoulders slumped, and I shook my head.
Daniel clapped me on the shoulder. “Buck up, Blake. He’s a nice guy
and a successful one, too. Just be yourself. You’ll have a great time.”
“And why didn’t you bid for yourself?”
“I’m married to my work. Maybe a few years from now I’ll look down
from the mountaintop on all of the other dating agencies and decide
that it’s my turn to find a man. For now, I’m content going solo.”
“Maybe I was, too.”
 2

HUNTER

I felt more than a hundred pairs of eyes scrutinizing every move

I made. It was a nerve-wracking experience. Many more people
watched my movements on the football field in high school, but
I wore my helmet and pads like a shield. On the stage, I wore
nothing but a black tie and tux. Everyone could see my face and the
cut of the clothes across my body. They were all trying to decide
whether I was worth a first date.
I’m not a man lacking in confidence, and I knew that I could make
the bidder’s time worthwhile. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to speak
before the bidding started. That was my gift. I could talk most
people into almost anything. Unfortunately, I had to depend on my
appearance and the persuasive words of the auctioneer.
I sighed with relief when someone placed a final bid of $1,300 for
me. It was like I’d just written a substantial check to the center.
More kids were going to be less terrified of being themselves as a
result of me being brave enough to stand on that stage. Thinking
about it sent an incredibly pleasant sensation flooding through my
body from head to toe.
The room behind the stage was still buzzing with activity and
expectation when I returned. Twenty more men were waiting for
their turn in the spotlight. I saw beads of sweat breaking out across
foreheads and feet shuffling back and forth from left to right.
I stood to the side of the crowd and took five long, deep breaths.
The hardest part was over for me. Meeting my date would be a
breeze by comparison.
An older man that I didn’t recognize walked up to me and extended
a hand.
“Hunter, what a fabulous bid that was. Now that I can see you up
close, I know that it will be money well spent by someone. If I were
only twenty years younger.”
I blushed at the flattering comment.
We shook hands. The man had a surprisingly firm grip. There was
nothing frail about it.
I said, “Thank you. I was nervous up there, and I’m glad it’s over.
The best part happens now. I get to meet my date.”
“Did I hear correctly that all of the proceeds from this event go to
your youth center?”
“Yes, that’s right. I have to make a small correction. It’s not my
center. It belongs to the community.”
“And how will you use the money?”
“I’ve already got some new programs in mind, and we’re planning to
expand our outreach to the kids who find themselves in traumatic
situations as a result of bullying and abuse.”
The older man was intrigued about the center, and I knew never to
walk away from such interest. I was possibly gaining a permanent
ally, and we could never have too many of those.
I said, “Just the other day we had to step in and provide some
mediation. A young man was battling intimidating behavior from a
supervisor in an after-school job. This money will help provide
training for our staff in that area.”
“You don’t know who I am, do you?” asked the man.
“I’m certain that I should.”
“Percy Fyfe is the name. I’m tremendously pleased by all of this. Let
me write you a check now. I’ll match the winning bid for your date.”
“From the Fyfe family up north?”
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he spun his index finger in a
circle, and I understood the instruction. I turned and leaned forward
with my hands on my thighs. Percy wrote an old-fashioned paper
check with the booklet resting on my back.
“I wish I could talk more,” said Percy. “Unfortunately, I have to rush.
My wife is at a board meeting at the art museum, and I promised
her a late dinner out tonight.”
“Oh, of course, and a million times thank you. I’ve got a special gift
that I’ll send along when I’m back in the office tomorrow.”
Percy shook his head. “An email telling me what you can do with the
cash from my check is sufficient. There’s no need to clutter the
condo. Myra, my wife, does that quite well on her own. We have
trinkets from around the world cluttering the shelves—India to
Iceland.”
At the precise moment Percy turned away, I felt a hand on my
shoulder. It was a familiar touch. When I turned, I saw that I’d
guessed correctly.
“Hey, Hunter. I’m not surprised you’re part of this, too. I would have
said hi earlier, but I was almost late. There’s an accident up north on
I-43. It snarled the traffic clear up to the Mequon area.”
“And you’re still waiting for your time on stage?”
“They told me I was originally going to be right behind you, but now
I’m near the end. Damn, I hope somebody takes a liking to me.” He
leaned in close to my ear. “And I hope he’s within twenty years of
my age. Know what I mean?”
It was Robert. He was my most recent ex.
“So you’re a Match Made customer? I thought you told me they were
a gimmick wrapped in a scam.”
Robert frowned. “Shh. Keep your voice down. And if anyone asks, I’ll
deny it all.”
I chuckled softly. I didn’t often get to put Robert on the defensive,
but I relished the experience ever time.
“I guess that means you are a customer. I don’t think you can be in
the auction if you’re not.”
“Oh yeah. I just joined a week ago. They said they’d squeeze me
into this event at the last minute.”
Robert illustrated all of his comments with hand movements. He
pressed his palms together like he was trying to shove them into a
tight crevice.
I said, “I wish you luck.”
“Did you see that crowd?” Robert rubbed his fingers and thumb
together. “There’s a lot of loaded men out there. Maybe one of them
will whisk me away on his magic carpet forever.”
“Someone parted with more for me than I expected.”
It was the wrong comment. I watched Robert grind his teeth for a
moment. He lowered his voice to nearly a whisper.
“He’s a lucky bastard, too. This morning I was eating my bowl of
cold cereal for breakfast, and I thought about you. I remembered
how we used to laugh over those smiley-faced pancakes you used to
make for us.”
“Was that before or after you checked out the latest text messages
from both of your boyfriends?”
Robert frowned. “Still stuck on that? We never really discussed it,
and you went off before I could explain.”
Anger was starting to rise in Robert’s chest. It was apparent in the
higher pitch of his voice. He wanted an open relationship when we
were together, and I disagreed. It was a dealbreaker. He knew it,
and he didn’t want to change his mind.
A voice calling, “Robert Simons!” interrupted our conversation. “Is
there a Robert Simons back here?”
A growl underlined the words as Robert said, “We’ll finish this later.
He tugged at the lapels of his tux jacket and reached down to pull at
the fabric of his pants.
I said, “You look fine. Later.”
For anyone that asked, I was over the breakup. Deep inside, I knew
that it wasn’t entirely accurate. Each time I spoke with Robert, my
mouth was dry, and I felt a slight trembling in my hands. We did
have fun times together, but I couldn’t change my fundamental
understanding of the world to keep him.
Robert was a good man, but the negative points were too much. His
enduring obsession with money and quick temper made it worse.
There was disturbing vanity, also. He used to like to walk past
mirrors and store windows to gaze at his reflection.
I spotted a hand waving at me above the crowd and quickly
discovered that it belonged to Daniel from Match Made. I waited for
him to weave through the crowd of men. He was easy on the eyes
and always honest in his dealings with me as a customer.
“I think this is all exceeding our dreams for the event,” said Daniel.
“I can’t wait to write a massive check to the center. And you—you’re
one of the highest-priced offerings of the evening.”
“I guess somebody out there had money to burn. They were
probably ready for a donation and decided they could gather up a
door prize at the same time.”
“You’re much too cavalier about it.” I saw something in Daniel’s
gaze. He had more that he could say, but he decided to hold it close
to his chest.
“I’m excited to meet my date. I hope it’s a good man. Did you see
who it was?”
“Yes, but I’m not at liberty to divulge his identity. I do know him,
and I can assure you that he’ll be worth your time.”
“We meet in that courtyard across the street? Correct? How will I
recognize him if you can’t tell me who he is?”
“He’ll know you,” said Daniel. “He’ll be sitting at a table with a
nameplate that says, Hunter Schultz.”
I rocked slightly forward and back on the balls of my feet. As a
reminder to Daniel, I started to rattle off my interests in men like I
was reading from my Match Made profile.
“I do appreciate honesty and authenticity. I think I mentioned that in
my profile. Good looks are nice, but that’s not the first priority.”
“Your date has all of those,” said Daniel.
He was stringing me along. “Is he already waiting for me? Come on,
Daniel. What’s his name?” Patience wasn’t my greatest virtue.
Daniel stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out his cellphone.
Holding it out toward me, he said, “I have to be honest. I’m not
good at keeping secrets. I know your date very well. It’s Blake, our
software guru.”
“At Match Made? I know him.” It was the man who ran into me
before the auction. I remembered that he said his name was Blake.
He was handsome, and his humility was charming. I started to grin.
I lowered my head to peer at Daniel’s cellphone screen. It was the
same person. In the photo, Blake had a mischievous expression on
his face. After our brief encounter, I’d hoped I’d see him again
sometime.
“You know him?” asked Daniel. “From where?”
“We ran into each other before the auction. He introduced himself.”
“Oh, good. You liked him?”
“It was brief, but yeah, I’m not complaining. Is he out there now?”
“I think he’s likely waiting for you,” said Daniel. “He’s probably
nervous as hell, too. Go easy on him.”
“Easy? On him? I’m the nervous wreck. Sorry to cut this off. I need
to go now, or my nerves might build up too much and stop me.”
“Go. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for both of you.”

T he park looked like the wallflower corner at a high school dance.

Several men sat alone at small patio-style tables behind folded
nameplates while they waited for their dates. Each table held a small
bottle of champagne and two glasses.
Some of the men drummed their fingers on the tabletop while others
tried to look engrossed in their cellphones. Nervous anxiety hung like
a thick fog in the air.
Blake was different from the beginning. He wasn’t drumming his
fingers or staring at his phone. Instead, he was watching a small
family of ducks waddling out the far end of the park on their way
toward the downtown stretch of the Milwaukee River. I recognized
him immediately. He wore the same skinny tie as in Daniel’s
mugshot photo.
When I was less than three feet away from Blake, he was still
distracted by the ducks. Something about them fascinated him. I
cleared my throat and asked, “Mind if I sit with you?”
“Oh, fuck, you scared the hell out of me.” Blake bit his lip. “Damn, I
didn’t mean to use that language.” A helpless expression filled his
face. “I’m only digging myself in deeper, right?”
Blake offered a hand to shake, but I said, “How about we start with
a hug? We met earlier, so we’re not strangers anymore. A hug
doesn’t feel so formal.”
I watched Blake cringe. “If it’s all the same to you, how about a
handshake? It’s nothing personal, but…yeah, that works best for me.
If we get to a hug, it can be…special.”
“Oh, sure.” We shook hands. Blake’s grip was firm. I didn’t ask about
sitting again and grabbed a chair myself. I said, “Thank you for the
bid.”
We sat in awkward silence for a few moments. Blake inclined his
head just enough that our eyes didn’t meet. I said, “Those two
words don’t really cover the full—you know, I love those kids at the
shelter. Tonight will be a huge help.”
Blake glanced up for a moment. “I didn’t bid on you. There, I said it.
I had to say it right now because if I did three days from now, you’d
ask why I didn’t say it right away. Then I’d say it wasn’t the right
time, and you’d wonder why and what’s the difference, and…”
I reached out and placed my hand on Blake’s forearm. I could feel
the vibrations from his nerves in my fingertips. It relaxed me. If
Blake didn’t bid on me, I wondered who did.
As he looked up, Blake’s eyes met mine. “You’re a great guy doing
that stuff for the kids.”
“It takes all of us to make the world spin the right way. That’s what I
always tell them. I believe it.”
“Even software-writing hacks like me?”
“Think about everybody you’ve helped on their way to marriage.
Your website talks about that. I wouldn’t call it being a hack.”
Blake’s anxious gaze slowly melted into a shy smile. “I guess it’s a
cool job if you look at it that way.”
Figuring out the best way to have a social conversation with a total
stranger was never easy for me. If I were in a work situation, I could
launch into a lively give and take right away. I knew what to say
about the kids that would grab someone’s attention. When it came
to talking about myself, my tongue was frequently tied.
I thought about what I saw as I walked up to Blake and asked a
question as an icebreaker. I said, “I saw you looking at the ducks.
Do you like animals?”
“They’re okay. Will you think I’m weird if I tell you what I thought
when I looked at them?”
“I can’t promise I won’t, but it’s unlikely.”
Blake took a deep breath. “I was wondering whether animals, ducks
included, dance. I’ve seen videos of birds playing with each other,
but do they dance?”
The question was completely out of left field. I found it charming
compared with dates that started with talk about the weather or the
latest Broadway musical in town.
I asked, “What about mating dances?”
Blake rubbed his chin. “I almost blurted that out, but the dancing
I’m thinking about isn’t mating. It’s…”
I didn’t mean to cut him off, but I was ready to jump into the
conversation. “Unless you’re doing it solo, isn’t dancing usually
almost always about mating in some way?”
A slight pink blush colored Blake’s cheeks. He tugged at his tie.
“What about this crazy weather we’re having?”
“I thought the ducks were more interesting. You are, too.”
“Me?”
“Yes, and tell me about something interesting other than animal
behavior and computer software.”
Blake blinked twice, but he was silent.
I said, “And don’t try to make something up. I want to hear it off the
top of your head.”
I hoped that I wasn’t veering into rude behavior by being too
directional. I was forceful in a similar way in conversations with the
kids. They’d try to hold back, but I wanted honesty and openness.
Sometimes I had to work like a screwdriver and pry things open.
“Do you realize how badly you’ve been geeked on this whole auction
thing?” Blake reached up and raked his fingers through his wavy,
sandy brown hair while he waited for an answer.
“Geeked? I’m not sure I…”
“Yeah, geeked. You’re stuck with one. That’s what we used to say
back in college when someone ended up on a date with a guy or girl
like me. They were geeked.”
“Like you?” I was intrigued. With every comment he made or
question that he asked, I found Blake more fascinating.
“I’m one of those guys obsessed with weird esoteric stuff. For me,
it’s sci-fi shows and disco. If the alarm bells are ringing in your head
right now, it’s not too late to turn back. I won’t tell anybody if you
decide to run for the hills.”
“Turning back is the last thing on my mind right now. What about
me? How do you know that I’m not a geek, too.”
Blake shook his head. “Look at you. It’s a disqualification. You look
so good that it’s like somebody photoshopped you.”
I laughed out loud. “This is the first time I’ve heard something like
that. I’m just me.” I wanted to talk to Blake in private so that he
could see beyond surface appearances. “Why don’t we get out of
here?”
“Together? You mean I haven’t screwed the date up yet?” Blake
grinned with a slightly cock-eyed smile that warmed my heart. “I
guess I’m a little out of practice.”
“If you’re trying to drive me away, you’re failing.”
Blake pointed at the bottle in the middle of the table and changed
the topic. “Should we pour a couple of glasses of this first? Daniel
would chew me out if he knew we wasted it.”
I reached out and grabbed Blake’s wrist to stop him from popping
the cork.
“If it’s not too forward of me, I suggest that we grab the bottle and
glasses and go somewhere. It’s getting a little crowded here in the
park.”
Blake lowered his voice. “You’re kidding.”
I hooked my thumb into the gap between Blake’s thumb and
forefinger and held on tight. “I’m absolutely serious.”
“Where do you want to go?”
“How about a walk along the river boardwalk? If we head out toward
Lake Michigan, I have a favorite spot before you get to the end. On
a weeknight like this, there’s a 90% chance that we’ll be alone
there.”
 3

BLAKE

A nyone could have knocked me over with a feather when

Hunter asked me to be alone with him. I couldn’t remember
the last time I was alone with another man other than
Daniel. The times that I spent alone with him were mostly the two of
us cooped up in the Match Made offices while we tried to hash out
minor problems with our software.
Two nights before the auction, Daniel and I poked and prodded at
Sean, my name for the latest version of our primary match engine.
By 2:00 a.m., we were both so exhausted that we had to go home
and sleep. That was the kind of night I spent alone with Daniel.
I asked Hunter, “Do you want to walk from here? The boardwalk is
only a few blocks away, or I can drive if that would be better.”
“Do you have a preference?”
“I’d love to walk, but let’s stop by my car. I’ve got a backpack that
can hold the glasses and the bottle.”
“Perfect,” whispered Hunter.
I reached out for the glasses, but I didn’t have them in hand before
Hunter leaned toward me. He gripped my chin and kissed me. It
wasn’t a lot more than a peck on my lips, but it was definitely a kiss.
I think my heart did a triple-double flip in my chest. Gymnast
Simone Biles had nothing on the acrobatics going on inside my
chest.
As we approached my car, Hunter asked in disbelief, “You drive a
Mercedes?”
“One from the 80s. I bought it for 20k three years ago, but it only
had 30k miles on it. It’s an awesome car.”
“Let’s take it instead of walking. I’ve got an even better place to go
since we have wheels.”
I turned back toward Hunter. “Better?”
“Do you like the beach?”
I had a quirky rule. I didn’t let anyone that I didn’t know well inside
my car. I’d put myself in an awkward spot by suggesting it in the
first place. Daniel and Iris thought my rule was odd, and they might
be right, but it was me.
I asked, “Why not just the walk tonight? My head’s spinning already.”
My first hope for a boyfriend in years stood in the balance. I braced
myself for an early end of the evening.
“No problem,” said Hunter. “Sometimes, I get a little carried away.
That’s why I have assistants at the center. They slow me down and
make sure I don’t step on a mine.”
While I packed the champagne and glasses into a vintage blue
backpack, my cock stirred. Hunter’s comment about getting carried
away made me curious about what he might do in bed. I knew we
were far from satisfying that curiosity.
It was a Friday night, and the section of the boardwalk that ran
through downtown was busy. Drunk frat boys from local universities
mingled with late summer tourists out for a stroll.
I leaned against the railing along the edge of the walk and gestured
for Hunter to join me. Pointing at buildings on the opposite shore, I
said, “I wonder what the people over there are doing tonight? Are
they watching TV? Cooking a late dinner? Dancing?”
Hunter stepped up close and put a hand on my shoulder. I gripped
the railing tight. I fought back the urge to turn my head and offer
another kiss. Reel it in, Blake. Reel it in.
Over the occasional sound of a siren and the shouts of weekend
revelers, Hunter asked, “Do you like the city?”
“I love the city. I grew up in a little town out in the country. It was
too small, and I was always on the outside. In a city, you can feel
like you’re part of the crowd even when you’re alone. Does that
make sense?”
“I never thought about it like that. Sometimes it overwhelms me.”
“It’s too much?”
Hunter didn’t answer. We walked in silence as the bend in the
boardwalk turned away from downtown in the direction of Lake
Michigan. Except for the reflections of the city lights on the surface,
the river’s water looked inky and black.
“It’s right down there,” said Hunter pointing. “The last shop along
the boardwalk. It’s a breakfast and lunch restaurant with little round
tables out on the patio. The owner’s a good friend.”
“I never walk out this far.”
“I sometimes come out here to sit and watch the water when I need
to remember what a big world it is.”
“Your friend, the owner, doesn’t mind?”
“When they’re closed?”
Hunter stopped and leaned against the railing lining the walk.
I said, “Yeah. There was a little diner in the town where I grew up
that had tables along the sidewalk in the summer. One time I was
sitting there minding my own business after closing time…”
“What happened?”
“The owner drove up in his car, rolled down the window, and yelled
at me.”
Hunter laughed. It was a deep, full-throated sound, and I couldn’t
help laughing with him. My toes curled. I wanted to kiss him hard
and swallow the laughter until it filled me with Hunter’s joy deep
down inside.
“Why don’t we sit? And break out the champagne?”
I pulled out both the glasses and bottle and set them in the middle
of a small, round table.
“This is the first time I’ve started dating with champagne,” said
Hunter. “The one time I made it past a year, we had the bubbly stuff
on New Year’s Eve. Have you had any better luck dating?”
I muttered, “No,” and shoved my hand in my pocket, reaching for
the Swiss Army Knife Grandpa gave me as a gift for high school
graduation.
“You came prepared.”
“I’m the Boy Scout who never joined the scouts.”
“They’ve not exactly been friendly to guys like us.”
I winced slightly and hoped the comment wouldn’t lead to a
conversation about community politics. It was important, but I tried
to keep it out of my social life. That upset some people, but it had to
be that way. When politics came up in conversation, I quickly got too
emotional to think straight. Then I started to shut down.
Hunter didn’t push the topic. He reached for one of the champagne
flutes and waited for me to pour. We both laughed when the cork
popped with enough force that it rolled across the boardwalk before
dropping with a light plop into the river.
We’d left the sounds of the rest of the city far behind. Our laughter
mingled with the gentle, lapping sound of the river’s water.
Hunter raised his glass. “I propose a toast to us! I hope this is only
the beginning.”
“A first step.”
“An opening salvo.”
“Damn, drink the champagne already.”
Hunter grinned and swallowed a mouthful. His features weren’t as
defined in the low light, but I needed to catch my breath every time
I gazed at him. He had the rough-hewn face and muscular frame of
a football player, but his voice and manner were gentle and kind.
The combination made me weak in the knees.
Hunter reached forward to lock his arm with mine while we both
sipped awkwardly. It required intense concentration to avoid pouring
champagne down my front.
As he set his glass on the table, Hunter scooted his chair closer to
mine until our knees touched. He asked, “How’s a sweet guy like you
single?”
I was far from ready to talk about the breakup and my years spent
thinking that I would never find a guy attractive again. Instead, I
dropped an easy line.
“I guess I’ve just been too busy with Match Made. What about you?
I mean, you were trying to find a guy. That’s why you came to us.”
“Bad breakup. I thought he was all that, and it turned out he was
next to none of it. At least that’s how I felt when it ended.”
I opened my eyes wider. Hunter was too perfect to be true. He even
had experience and could empathize with a nasty breakup. I started
to say, “I’ve had a bad one, too,” but it was too early. I needed to
know him better.
Hunter stood, and he beckoned with a bent finger. “Come over here
by the rail. Let’s look out over the water.”
“Why, did you see some ducks?”
“That’s funny. No, I want you close to me.”
It was a request that I couldn’t refuse. I wanted to be close to
Hunter, too. Desire with a touch of lust was growing inside, but I
was still fighting hard to hold it back. We’d only known each other
for a few short hours.
As I drew close, Hunter breached the walls between us. He reached
out for me for a hug and drew me up against his body. I was putty
in his hands.
Before I could say anything else, he leaned in close, and we kissed.
This time Hunter didn’t stop with a peck.
We both parted our lips, and the tip of my tongue darted hesitantly
forward. My hips took on a life of their own and started to grind
against Hunter’s body. I tasted him, and shivers of delight rattled my
bones. I filled the space between us with a moan.
The kiss was like a massive wrecking ball aiming at the fortifications
I’d built around myself. They kept everything inside, including my
sexual energy. It was pent up for far too long.
I pushed forward with my entire body backing Hunter against the
rail. While devouring him with the kiss, I slid a hand down the center
of his back until I gripped a handful of his firm ass.
“Oh, damn…” muttered Hunter.
My heart thumped hard in my chest, and I knew Hunter could feel
another part of me steely and stiff in my dress pants. He slipped his
right hand under the lapel of my jacket and rubbed my chest before
letting his fingers drift lower. My ab muscles tensed and quivered,
knowing the final destination was even further below.
I pulled back from the kiss and tried to look into Hunter’s eyes. He
responded by trailing his lips and tongue down the side of my neck
and reaching up with his left hand to grip my hair while gently tilting
my head so that he had better access.
Hunter was close to one of the most sensitive spots on my entire
body, that little indentation just below and behind my ear.
“Mmm…” It sounded like Hunter was devouring something delicious
while he kissed and licked at the prickly flesh on my neck. I
squeezed his ass, and he answered my groping hand with a touch of
his index finger against the swollen cock tenting my pants.
Then we heard footsteps. I suddenly pulled back, disconnecting my
hands, my body, and my lips. We didn’t completely disengage.
Hunter kept his arms tight around me while he untangled his fingers
from my hair.
When he opened his eyes, the light from a street lamp along the
boardwalk illuminated the deep green, almost jade, color ringing the
pupils. I’d not noticed the hue before, but after it registered in my
mind, I couldn’t look away.
The footsteps grew louder. It was the sound of heels clacking
against the wood of the boardwalk. We both turned to see an older
woman approaching us. When she was only about five steps away,
she smiled broadly.
“Oh, don’t let me interrupt anything. There’s not nearly enough love
and affection in this world.”
I was always nervous about getting caught doing something that
might be better kept in private. Kissing Hunter on a public walkway
qualified.
I sputtered in response. “Y...you’re not interrupting. We were only
looking at the water. It’s such an inky black color at this time of
night. I love the contrast with the day.”
The woman pulled a light jacket tight around her neck and brushed
up close to me. Bouncing onto the balls of her feet, she whispered,
“Kiss him again. He’s a looker. You don’t want to let that one go.”
After the stranger was out of earshot, Hunter said, “I heard that. I’d
love for you to follow her advice.”
“But…I hear a but…”
Hunter sighed audibly. “But I’ve got to get to work early tomorrow
morning. This night has been phenomenal, and thank you for that.
Can I walk you back to your car?”
It didn’t surprise me that Hunter needed to leave, but his statement
let loose a wave of anxiety inside me. I worried that I’d said or done
something wrong that caused him to look for the exit hatch.
I held it together well enough to say, “I had a good time, too.”
I couldn’t think of anything else to say or do, so I stood like a statue
staring at Hunter.
After several awkward seconds, Hunter opened his arms and pulled
me in for a hug. “You didn’t answer. Walk you to your car?”
I held on tight and closed my eyes, wishing that I’d never have to let
him go. He was warm, wonderful, and sexy as hell. I’d hit the
jackpot on my first try. On Daniel’s first try. It wasn’t just a toe in the
water. I’d jumped in feet first landing waist-deep.
Unfortunately, if Hunter walked me to my car, I wasn’t confident that
I’d be able to climb into my vehicle and drive off without getting
embarrassingly emotional. It didn’t happen often, but when I lost it,
I melted into an ugly, crying mess. Usually, it all happened on delay,
but I couldn’t risk falling apart in front of Hunter on the first date.
I said, “No, I think I want to stick around out here a little longer. I
hope that’s okay.”
Hunter smiled at me, and I thought I saw a hint of sadness in his
eyes. I hoped that it was about having to walk off alone. Leaving
him sad and wanting more was infinitely better than making him
want to get away as quickly as possible.
“Have a great night, Blake. Thank you.”
It took all of my inner strength to stop myself from chasing after
Hunter as he strolled down the boardwalk back in the direction of
the center of the city. After a few minutes, he followed the curve of
the walk and disappeared out of sight. I held my hands up to my
face and shuddered. I hoped that I’d not just let a great man walk
out of my life.
 4

HUNTER

F or once, I didn’t mind the Monday morning traffic on the way

to work in the least. I was still on an emotional high from
Friday night, and nothing ordinary could bring me down.
Blake was different and unique, and I loved that about him. He knew
how to kiss well, too.
Thinking back over the weekend, I smiled when I thought about
spending much of the day on Saturday with Blake in the back of my
mind. I wondered whether he would call, but I knew that we were
just beginning, and there was no reason to rush. On Sunday, I
cleaned my small bungalow house from top to bottom. The chores
kept my mind focused for at least a few minutes at a time.
While the traffic inched along I-94, the radio DJ announced a
Monday morning throwback for, “All of you in the audience of a
certain age.”
He played a disco song, and I thought about Blake’s comments that
he was a maven of the music. He told me that he was fascinated by
the classic dance music. The grinding beat took me back to a
memory of 4th grade.
As part of physical education, we spent a week learning to dance.
The teacher took us through waltzing, square dancing, basic
jitterbug, and rudimentary tango. On the last day, we danced to
disco.
One of the songs that our teacher played included erotic moans from
the singer that made a few of us in the class blush. I remember
wondering whether the song was appropriate, and I decided that I
wouldn’t mention it to my parents. On the other hand, most of my
classmates probably didn’t yet understand what the moans meant.
“Dancing was so sexy back then,” said the DJ’s sidekick. “That beat.”
For a moment, I thought about what it might be like to dance close
to Blake. We’d move in tight, strip off our shirts in the hot, sweaty
club, and... I had to slam on my brakes.
The traffic was narrowing to one lane ahead of me due to an
accident. Lost in daydreams of Blake, I nearly planted the front end
of my Toyota in the rear of a minivan.
The image of Blake in my head popped like a balloon stuck with a
pin. It was time to shift my focus to the workday ahead. Summer
vacation from school for the kids was winding down. Only a few
short weeks were left. The center would soon be quieter during the
day, but for now, it was still humming with activity.
Each day, as school drew closer, I sensed rising restlessness in some
of the kids, the teens in particular. They’d started the summer
upbeat and excited. Now, it was like a threatening storm cloud was
slowly descending. Despite our best efforts at providing quality
support, some of them still found their schools to be a profoundly
uncomfortable environment.
It was already a good morning as I approached the door. Any day
that I had to park less than two blocks away started me off with a
smile.
Seconds after stepping inside the front door of the center, I found
out that our regular kids had a new distraction. They weren’t worried
about the school year. They were buzzing about new rumors
spreading like wildfire.
I was still five steps from the office juggling coffee, keys, and a
messenger bag full of paperwork when James approached me. “Hey,
Hunter, how’d the date go?”
“You know about that?”
I noticed a small crowd gathering around us.
“I think we all know. It was a public event. They auctioned you off
to the highest bidder, and we all heard that some lucky guy paid big
bucks for you.”
“I appreciate that you think he was the fortunate one.”
They all followed me like a pack of caribou migrating across the
tundra. I unlocked the door to the center’s main office while my
confirmation set off a buzz of separate conversations.
James and two others didn’t hesitate to follow me inside. I
maintained an open-door policy, and any of the kids were always
welcome.
“Do you finally have a boyfriend?” asked James.
“I bet they did the deed,” said Mateo, another of our regulars
Before I could answer, three more kids piled into the office. We were
at capacity.
I heard Charlie’s distinctive tenor voice from the rear of the group.
“Hey, guys, leave him alone. Dating’s a private thing. He’ll tell us
anything important that we should know.”
Charlie was always on my side. He even backed up my unpopular
decisions. He saved any questions for private conversations.
I responded to James with my own question. “Are any of you
dating?”
James turned to point at a girl standing just behind his shoulder.
“Tricia’s got a girlfriend.”
“And do you want to tell us the details of what happens on your
dates?”
Tricia gasped. “Oh, God, no.”
I smiled in triumph. “There you go. It went well, and that’s all I’m
going to say. I’ll keep the details to myself.”
A disappointed sigh swept through the group. They started to file
out of the office until James pushed again.
“Can you at least tell us who it was? What’s he like? The rumors I
heard didn’t include that info.”
“He’s a computer programmer.”
Charlie perked up his ears. He was one of the most recent additions
to the core of kids attending the center. We first met when he
hesitantly walked through the door for a Wednesday game night
back in March. It didn’t take him long to warm up to all of us. I knew
that he wanted to be a programmer or a game designer.
As I caught Charlie’s eye, I thought about another new program
option for the center. Perhaps Blake would be interested in speaking
or running a workshop about careers in computing. He could even
show basic elements of his own work.
James clamped a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Watch out for those
geeks. They can be a little kinky behind the scenes. Right, Charlie?”
Charlie blushed from ear to ear, and then he smiled at James.
If I didn’t know my kids, I’d worry that James was harassing Charlie,
but I knew the truth of their relationship was something different. I’d
seen both of them grow since Charlie first arrived at the center.
I thought I’d finally gotten my morning under control when Trouble
with a capital “T” arrived at the office. Robert, my ex, peeked
around the corner of the doorframe. He was the liaison to the youth
center from a large southeastern Wisconsin family foundation that
gave generously to multiple local causes.
We’d initially met through work. After the breakup, I knew that I
couldn’t completely burn the bridges that connected Robert and me.
Setting fire to a rickety walkway would amount to shooting myself in
the foot as far as the center was concerned.
The kids at the center knew about my strained relationship with
Robert, and they always backed out of the way when he arrived.
Only his face was visible beyond the doorframe, and he was forcing
a strained smile.
“Hey, how was your date? Mine was on fire. Seriously, hot stuff.”
I thought there was approximately a 50% chance that about a third
of what Robert said was true. The remaining exaggerations and
outright lies were intended to either take a dig at me or bolster his
shaky self-esteem.
I said, “I’m happy. It went well.”
“Aww, man, you can show a little more enthusiasm than that. What’s
wrong? Was your guy a loser? I’m soo sorry if that were the case.”
I didn’t take the bait, and I refused to give Robert the satisfaction of
hearing the tone of my voice change. I kept it low and devoid of
emotion.
“He was not a loser. I had a good time.”
Robert pushed through the door, stepped up to my desk, and cocked
his head to the right. “A good time or a good time.” His voice
dripped with innuendo.
“Look, Robert. I just finished letting the kids know that this is all part
of my private life. Now, I’m saying the same to you. If you have a
professional reason why you’re here, then tell me. Otherwise, I have
to get to work.”
“Aww, man, I’m sorry. I guess I’m pushing it a little too hard. My
date was sweet, and he’s loaded. He’s got a house on the lakeshore
up in Fox Point. He inherited it all when his parents met an untimely
end when Montezuma’s revenge won on a vacation to Mexico. Can
you believe it?”
“That’s horrible. What an awful story for Monday morning.”
Robert shrugged. “I need to come up with a solid strategy. A house
with a lake view would be sweet. Maybe you can suggest some
pointers.”
I wanted to say, “Grow up is my first suggestion,” but I held my
tongue.
Instead, I offered, “Why don’t you first decide whether you really
like him? The money is always secondary.”
Robert laughed, and he tried hard to toss his instinctual greed to the
side.
“I’m teasing you. Yeah, Sean was handsome, and we ended the
night with a sweet little kiss. I told him I’d call, and I’ll do that
tonight. I’m curious to see what’s under… Okay, yeah, he’s a good
guy.”
So many reasons for breaking up with Robert flooded back into my
head. I wanted to warn Sean. Robert could be incredibly charming—
at first.
Remembering what I told the kids about my date with Blake, I
decided to stay out of Robert’s personal relationships and focus on
my work.
“Okay, now, maybe you can tell me the reason for the visit.”
“Oh, yeah.”
Robert stepped back toward the door and closed it, muffling the
sound outside.
“You’ve got to keep this quiet. It’s possibly great news, and I wanted
you to be one of the first to know.”
In his years working for the foundation, Robert developed solid
personal relationships with many local philanthropists. He chatted
them up at the theater and the ballet. When he focused on his
professional work, Robert was worth hearing. If he said, “possibly
great news,” I needed to perk up my ears.
“Remember the stories a few months back about the death of one of
the founders of the Kenway retail chain? The stores are having a
hard time now, but the family who founded the company are awash
in massive personal wealth.”
I said, “I remember that. The art museum received a large bequest.
I think the man’s family is funding one of their upcoming
exhibitions.”
“I found out just the other day that the will specified five bequests.
It was exciting news. The art museum was only the first. Guess
who’s one of the other four.”
My eyes opened wider. I knew that it wasn’t the center. Lawyers
would have contacted us, but it was quite possible Robert’s
organization was a fortunate recipient. They didn’t sponsor their own
programs, but they often helped wealthy patrons pass large sums of
money on to support good works across a wide range of causes.
“This is a wild guess, but was it you?”
“Yep, it’s us, and I had a meeting with our President this morning.
He’s interested in a sort of friendly competition among our member
clients to suggest a set of new projects for funding.”
It was tremendously exciting news. I already had the funds from
Match Made on the way. The bequest competition would make my
dreams even bigger. A knock on my office door interrupted the
conversation.
“It never stops around here, does it?” asked Robert.
“I have an open-door policy. Sometimes emergencies happen in my
line of work.”
It was Charlie. He stood behind Robert nervously weaving his fingers
together and pulling them apart.
“Um, I don’t mean to interrupt, but remember that meeting? It’s in
five minutes.”
I’d forgotten about my schedule in all the commotion. I didn’t want
Charlie to think his group was unimportant.
I said, “This meeting came up suddenly out of the blue, but yeah, I’ll
be there. I might be three minutes late, but no more than that.”
Charlie grinned. “Okay, I was just checking.”
Before Charlie left and closed the door again, Robert called out, “He
couldn’t wait to share the juicy details about Friday night!”
I heard giggles outside the office as the door shut. Leaning across
my desk, I hissed, “Why the hell did you say something like that?”
“I’m joking, and they’ll get that. They’re smart kids, but they like to
know their mentor is—active.”
Robert stood and clapped a hand on my shoulder.
“Loosen up, Hunter. Maybe it’s good that we ended it all. You’re a
little on the uptight side. I like a laidback man who knows how to lay
back.”
I sighed heavily. With the potential for significant funding for a new
project dangling from the end of Robert’s nose, I knew that I had to
be nice.
Another random document with
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The Project Gutenberg eBook of Roland Furieux,
tome 3
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Title: Roland Furieux, tome 3

Traduction nouvelle par Francisque Reynard

Author: Lodovico Ariosto

Translator: Francisque Reynard

Release date: January 9, 2024 [eBook #72671]

Language: French

Original publication: Paris: Lemerre, 1880

Credits: Laurent Vogel and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team

at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from
scanned images of public domain material from the Google
Books project.)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROLAND

FURIEUX, TOME 3 ***
 ARIOSTE

ROLAND FURIEUX
Traduction nouvelle
PAR

FRANCISQUE REYNARD
TOME TROISIÈME

PARIS
ALPHONSE LEMERRE, ÉDITEUR
27-31, PASSAGE CHOISEUL, 27-31

M DCCC LXXX
 ROLAND FURIEUX

CHANT XXVI.

Argument. — Le chevalier rencontré sur le lieu où Maugis et Vivian

doivent être livrés est Marphise. Les Mayençais, auxquels s’était
adjointe une nombreuse troupe de Maures, sont défaits, et les
deux prisonniers sont délivrés. Maugis donne la signification des
figures sculptées sur la fontaine de Merlin. Survient Hippalque
sans Frontin. Roger va avec elle pour le ravoir. Combat entre
Mandricard et Marphise, interrompu par Rodomont qui décide
Marphise à se rendre au camp d’Agramant. Roger vient à la
fontaine, où, par suite de divers incidents, s’élève une querelle
entre les guerriers païens. Maugis y met fin en éloignant Doralice
par ses enchantements. Les quatre guerriers se dirigent vers
Paris.

Il y eut, dans l’antiquité, des dames courtoises qui aimèrent la

vertu et non les richesses. De notre temps, elles sont rares celles qui
ne mettent pas l’intérêt au-dessus de tout. Aussi, celles qui, dans
leur générosité d’âme, n’imitent pas la cupidité du plus grand
nombre, méritent-elles d’être heureuses de leur vivant, et
éternellement glorifiées après leur mort.
C’est ainsi que Bradamante est digne d’une louange immortelle,
elle qui n’aima ni les richesses, ni la puissance, mais la vertu, mais
l’âme chevaleresque, mais la haute noblesse de Roger. Elle mérita
bien d’avoir pour amant un si valeureux chevalier ; elle mérita surtout
qu’il accomplît pour elle des choses dont les siècles à venir devaient
s’émerveiller.
Roger, comme il vous a été dit plus haut, s’était mis en route
avec les deux chevaliers de la maison de Clermont, — je veux dire
avec Aldigier et Richardet — pour aller au secours des deux frères
prisonniers. Je vous ai dit aussi qu’ils avaient vu venir à eux un
chevalier portant sur ses armes l’oiseau qui se renouvelle de ses
propres cendres, et qui est unique au monde.
Le chevalier les ayant aperçus qui se tenaient prêts à combattre,
il lui prit envie d’éprouver si leur valeur était égale à leur air martial.
« — Est-il un de vous — dit-il — qui veuille essayer lequel, de lui ou
de moi, est le plus vaillant, soit à la lance, soit à l’épée, jusqu’à ce
qu’un de nous deux reste en selle après avoir renversé l’autre ? — »
« — Je lutterais volontiers avec toi — dit Aldigier — soit que tu
voulusses croiser l’épée, soit que tu préférasses rompre une lance ;
mais une autre entreprise, dont tu pourras être témoin si tu restes ici,
m’empêche d’accepter ta proposition ; loin de pouvoir jouter
ensemble, j’ai à peine le temps de te dire ces quelques mots, car
nous attendons, au passage, six cents hommes, ou même
davantage, contre lesquels nous devons aujourd’hui lutter.
« Pour leur arracher deux des nôtres qu’ils doivent amener ici
prisonniers, la pitié et l’affection nous ont conduits en cet endroit. —
» Il poursuivit en racontant les motifs qui les avaient fait venir armés
de pied en cap. « — L’excuse que tu m’opposes est si juste — dit le
guerrier — que je ne puis y contredire ; et je vous tiens certainement
pour trois chevaliers qui avez peu d’égaux.
« Je désirais échanger avec vous un coup de lance ou deux,
pour voir quelle était votre valeur. Mais dès que vous vous proposez
de m’en donner la preuve contre d’autres adversaires, cela me suffit,
et je ne tiens plus à jouter avec vous. Mais je vous prie de me
permettre de joindre aux vôtres mon casque et mon écu. J’espère
vous prouver, si je vais avec vous, que je ne suis point indigne d’une
telle compagnie. — »
Je crois m’apercevoir que quelques-uns de mes lecteurs désirent
savoir le nom de ce chevalier qui, arrivé près de Roger et de ses
amis, s’offrait à eux comme compagnon d’armes dans cette
périlleuse entreprise. C’était Marphise, la même qui donna au
malheureux Zerbin l’ordre d’accompagner partout Gabrine, la vieille
ribaude si ardente à toute espèce de mal.
Les deux chevaliers de Clermont et le brave Roger l’acceptèrent
volontiers parmi eux, car ils la prenaient pour un chevalier et non
pour une damoiselle, et surtout pour la damoiselle qu’elle était. Peu
après, Aldigier aperçut et fit voir à ses compagnons une bannière
agitée par le vent, et autour de laquelle force gens étaient groupés.
Quand ces gens furent plus près, et qu’on put mieux distinguer
leur costume mauresque, les chevaliers les reconnurent pour des
Sarrasins, et virent au milieu d’eux, liés et conduits sur deux petits
roussins, les prisonniers qui devaient être échangés contre de l’or.
Marphise dit aux autres : « — Puisque les voilà, qu’attendons-nous
pour commencer la fête ? — »
Roger répondit : « — Tous les invités ne sont pas encore
arrivés ; il en manque une grande partie. C’est un grand bal qui
s’apprête, et pour qu’il soit tout à fait solennel, usons de toute notre
adresse. Mais les retardataires ne peuvent être loin. — » A peine
ces mots étaient-ils achevés, qu’ils voient les traîtres de Mayence
venir de leur côté, comme s’ils étaient prêts à commencer la danse.
Les Mayençais s’avançaient d’un côté, conduisant des mulets
chargés d’or, de riches vêtements et d’autres objets précieux. De
l’autre côté, au milieu des lances, des épées et des arbalètes,
venaient les deux frères, tristes de se voir attendus au passage et
d’entendre leur impitoyable ennemi Bertolas traiter de leur livraison
avec le capitaine maure.
 A la vue du Mayençais, le fils de Beuves, non plus que le fils
d’Aymon, ne purent se contenir plus longtemps. Tous deux mettent
leur lance en arrêt ; tous deux frappent le traître. L’un lui transperce
le ventre et la cuisse, l’autre les deux joues. Sous ces coups,
Bertolas tombe. Ainsi puissent périr tous les méchants !
A ce signal, et sans attendre les trompettes, Marphise et Roger
s’élancent. La lance de la première, mise en arrêt, ne se relève pas
avant d’avoir jeté à terre, l’un après l’autre, trois ennemis. Roger
juge digne de son premier coup de lance le païen qui commande
aux autres, et l’occit en un tour de main. Du même coup, il en envoie
deux autres avec lui aux sombres royaumes.
Cette brusque attaque produisit parmi les deux troupes assaillies
une erreur qui causa leur perte. D’un côté, les Mayençais se croient
trahis par les Sarrasins ; de l’autre, les Maures traitent les Mayençais
d’assassins. S’attaquant à coups de flèches, de lances et d’épées,
ils se massacrent entre eux.
Roger se rue tantôt sur une troupe, tantôt sur l’autre ; il terrasse
dix, vingt adversaires. La damoiselle en jette çà et là un même
nombre par terre, blessés ou morts. Tous ceux que touchent les
épées tranchantes tombent de selle. Les casques et les cuirasses
n’arrêtent pas plus le fer que, dans un bois, les branches
desséchées n’arrêtent le feu.
Si vous vous rappelez avoir jamais vu, ou si l’on vous a raconté
ce qui se passe parmi les abeilles, alors que, la discorde s’étant
mise dans l’essaim, elles se battent dans les airs et servent de proie
à l’avide hirondelle qui se précipite sur elles, vous vous imaginerez
facilement ce que devaient être Roger et Marphise parmi ces gens.
Richardet et son cousin ne partageaient pas leurs coups entre
les deux troupes ; laissant de côté les Sarrasins, ils ne prenaient
garde qu’à ceux de Mayence. Le frère du paladin Renaud joignait
une grande force à un grand courage, et la haine qu’il portait aux
Mayençais redoublait, en cette circonstance, sa vigueur et son
énergie.
 Une même haine fait du bâtard de Beuves un lion féroce. De son
épée, à laquelle il ne laisse pas une minute de repos, il fend les
casques ou les brise comme un œuf. Mais qui donc n’aurait pas
senti doubler son audace, qui donc n’aurait pas montré le courage
d’Hector, ayant pour compagnons Roger et Marphise, l’élite et la
fleur des guerriers ?
Marphise, tout en combattant, jetait souvent les yeux sur ses
compagnons ; en voyant les preuves de leur force, elle s’étonnait et
s’en réjouissait. Mais ce qui la stupéfiait le plus, et lui paraissait sans
égal au monde, c’était la vaillance de Roger. Parfois elle croyait que
c’était Mars lui-même descendu du cinquième ciel en cet endroit.
Elle admirait les coups horribles qu’il portait ; elle s’étonnait de ce
qu’ils ne tombaient jamais en vain. Il lui semblait que, contre
Balisarde, le fer était du carton et non un dur métal. L’épée terrible
partageait les cuirasses épaisses, fendait les cavaliers jusqu’à la
croupe du cheval, et les jetait de chaque côté sur l’herbe en deux
parties égales.
Souvent le même coup d’estoc tuait le cheval avec le maître. Les
têtes volaient loin des épaules, et les bustes étaient séparés net des
hanches. Parfois, d’un seul coup, cinq combattants, et même plus,
étaient fendus en deux ; j’en dirais davantage, si je ne craignais
d’être accusé de mensonge ; mais c’est inutile.
Le bon Turpin, qui sait qu’il dit la vérité, laisse croire à chacun ce
qui lui plaît, et raconte, au sujet de Roger, des choses si
merveilleuses, qu’en les entendant, vous le traiteriez de menteur. De
même, chaque guerrier paraît de glace près de Marphise, plus
ardente que le feu. Elle n’attire pas moins les regards de Roger, que
la haute valeur de celui-ci n’excite sa propre admiration.
Et si elle l’avait comparé à Mars, il l’aurait, de son côté,
comparée à Bellone s’il avait su qu’elle était femme. Mais tout, dans
l’aspect de sa personne, semblait indiquer le contraire. Une sorte
d’émulation s’élève entre eux, au grand détriment de leurs
malheureux ennemis, dont la chair, le sang, les nerfs, les os, servent
à montrer lequel des deux déploie le plus de force.
 L’audace et le courage des quatre champions suffisent à mettre
les deux troupes en déroute. Les fuyards ne conservaient que leurs
armes de dessous. Heureux ceux dont le cheval était bon coureur,
car ce n’était point là le cas d’aller à l’amble ou au trot. Ceux qui
n’avaient point de destrier purent s’apercevoir combien le métier des
armes est triste à pied.
Le camp, et tout ce qu’il renfermait, demeura au pouvoir des
vainqueurs, pas un des gens de pied et des muletiers n’étant restés.
Les Mayençais fuyaient d’un côté, les Maures de l’autre, les uns
abandonnant leurs prisonniers, les autres leurs trésors. Les quatre
chevaliers, la joie sur le visage et dans le cœur, s’empressèrent de
délivrer Maugis et Vivian de leurs liens. Les écuyers ne furent pas
moins empressés à décharger les mulets.
Outre une bonne quantité d’argenterie, consistant en vases de
formes diverses, outre des vêtements de femme richement ornés,
des tapisseries d’or et de soie, ouvrées en Flandre et dignes
d’appartements royaux, ils trouvèrent une foule d’autres objets
précieux, ainsi que des flacons de vin, du pain et des vivres.
Lorsqu’ils ôtèrent leurs casques, ils virent qu’ils avaient été aidés
dans leur entreprise par une damoiselle, ainsi qu’ils purent en juger
à ses cheveux dorés retombant en boucles, et à sa belle et délicate
figure. Ils lui prodiguèrent les marques de respect et la prièrent de ne
pas leur cacher le nom qu’elle portait si glorieusement ; et elle,
toujours courtoise envers ses amis, ne refusa pas de se faire
connaître.
Ils ne peuvent se rassasier de la regarder, se rappelant ce qu’ils
lui avaient vu faire pendant la bataille. Pour elle, elle ne voit que
Roger, elle ne parle qu’à lui ; elle fait peu de cas des autres.
Cependant les serviteurs viennent l’inviter, elle et ses compagnons,
à prendre part au repas qu’ils ont préparé près d’une fontaine abritée
par un coteau des rayons brûlants du soleil.
C’était une des quatre fontaines que Merlin avait élevées en
France. Elle était entourée d’un beau marbre fin, brillant et poli, et
plus blanc que le lait. Merlin y avait sculpté des figures avec un art
vraiment divin. On aurait dit qu’elles respiraient, et, si la voix ne leur
avait fait défaut, qu’elles étaient vivantes.
On y voyait une bête qui paraissait sortir d’une forêt. Son aspect
était féroce et haineux. Elle avait les oreilles d’un âne, la tête et les
dents d’un loup qu’une grande faim aurait desséché, les pattes d’un
lion ; tout le reste du corps était d’un renard. Elle semblait parcourir
la France, l’Italie, l’Espagne, l’Angleterre, l’Europe et l’Asie, toute la
terre enfin.
Partout elle avait porté la dévastation et la mort chez les nations,
s’attaquant aussi bien à la plèbe qu’aux gens de condition élevée.
Cependant elle nuisait de préférence aux rois, aux grands seigneurs,
aux princes, aux puissants barons. C’était à la cour de Rome qu’elle
avait causé le plus de ravages ; elle avait tué des cardinaux et des
papes, souillé le siège de Pierre et porté le scandale au sein de la
foi.
Il semblait que, devant cette bête horrible, toute muraille, tout
rempart touché par elle s’écroulât. Point de cité, de château ou de
forteresse qui pût s’en défendre. On la voyait pourtant prétendre aux
honneurs divins, adorée qu’elle était par la multitude imbécile, et se
vanter d’avoir en sa puissance les clefs du ciel et du ténébreux
abîme.
Derrière elle, on voyait s’avancer un chevalier, la tête couronnée
du laurier impérial, et accompagné de trois jeunes hommes portant
les lis d’or brodés sur leurs vêtements royaux. Recouvert des
mêmes insignes, on voyait un lion marcher avec eux contre le
monstre. Ils avaient leur nom écrit, qui au-dessus de la tête, qui sur
le bord de leur vêtement.
Au-dessus de l’un d’eux, dont l’épée était plongée jusqu’à la
garde dans le ventre de la bête féroce, était écrit : François Ier, de
France. A côté de lui, sur le même rang, était Maximilien d’Autriche.
L’empereur Charles-Quint avait transpercé de sa lance la gorge du
monstre ; l’autre, dont la flèche se voyait fichée dans sa poitrine,
était désigné sous le nom d’Henri VIII d’Angleterre.
 Le lion, dont les dents étaient enfoncées dans les oreilles du
monstre, portait, écrit sur le dos, le chiffre X. Il avait déjà tellement
harassé et secoué la bête, que les autres assaillants avaient eu le
temps d’arriver. A cette vue, le monde semblait avoir rejeté toute
crainte, et, pour racheter leurs vieilles erreurs, des gens de noble
race accouraient, non en foule cependant, à l’endroit où la bête
expirait.
Les chevaliers et Marphise regardaient, désireux de connaître
ceux par qui était mise à mort cette bête qui avait jeté l’épouvante et
le deuil en tant de contrées. Bien que leurs noms fussent inscrits sur
le marbre, ils ne leur étaient point connus. Ils s’interrogeaient
mutuellement, demandant que celui d’entre eux qui connaîtrait cette
histoire voulût bien la dire aux autres.
Vivian, se tournant enfin vers Maugis qui les écoutait tous sans
rien leur répondre : « — A toi — dit-il — de nous raconter cette
histoire que tu connais, à ce que je vois. Quels sont ces gens qui, à
coups de flèches et de lances, ont mis l’animal à mort ? — » Maugis
répondit : « — C’est une histoire dont aucun auteur n’a pu jusqu’ici
avoir connaissance.
« Sachez que ceux dont les noms sont écrits sur ce marbre n’ont
pas encore existé en ce monde. Ils vivront seulement dans six cents
ans d’ici, pour le grand honneur des siècles futurs. Merlin, le savant
enchanteur de Bretagne, construisit cette fontaine, au temps du roi
Artus ; il y fit sculpter, par de bons artistes, les événements à venir.
« Cette bête cruelle sortit du fond de l’enfer, à l’époque où des
bornes furent posées dans les champs, où l’on commença à se
servir de poids et de mesures, et à passer les engagements par
écrits. Mais tout d’abord elle n’envahit pas le monde entier. Elle
laissa intactes un grand nombre de contrées. De notre temps, elle
porte le trouble en beaucoup de pays, s’attaquant au populaire et à
la tourbe vile.
« Depuis son apparition, jusqu’au siècle présent, elle a toujours
été en augmentant ses ravages, et elle ira les augmentant toujours.
Le monstre ira croissant lui-même, pendant un long espace de
temps, jusqu’à ce qu’il devienne le plus énorme, le plus horrible de
ceux qui aient jamais existé. Python, que les chroniques et les
documents nous donnent comme si gigantesque et si épouvantable,
n’atteignit jamais la moitié de la taille de celle-ci, et fut loin de l’égaler
en perversité et en laideur.
« Elle se livrera à un cruel carnage, et il n’y aura point de contrée
où elle ne porte le trouble, le ravage et l’infection. Ce que marque
cette sculpture est peu de chose, en comparaison de ses
abominables méfaits. Le monde sera déjà enroué de crier merci,
quand ceux dont nous venons de lire les noms, qui brillent plus que
le rubis, viendront à son secours.
« Celui d’entre eux qui se montrera le plus terrible envers la bête
cruelle sera François, le roi des Français. Et il est bien naturel qu’en
cette circonstance il l’emporte sur la plupart de ses rivaux, et en
laisse peu prendre place à ses côtés, puisque sa splendeur royale et
ses autres qualités auront depuis longtemps éclipsé les plus
illustres. Ainsi toute autre splendeur s’efface dès que le soleil paraît.
« La première année de son règne glorieux, et la couronne
n’étant pas encore bien assurée sur son front, il franchira les Alpes,
brisant la résistance de quiconque voudra lui disputer le passage, et
justement indigné, dans son cœur généreux, que les hontes infligées
à l’armée de France par des pâtres et des montagnards n’aient pas
encore été vengées.
« De là, il descendra dans la riche plaine de Lombardie, entouré
de la fleur des guerriers de France. Il écrasera tellement l’armée
suisse, qu’elle ne songera plus jamais à relever le front. A la grande
honte de l’Église, de l’Espagne et de Florence, il s’emparera de la
forteresse réputée jusque-là imprenable.
« Pour s’en rendre maître, celle de ses armes qui lui servira le
plus sera l’épée illustre avec laquelle il aura d’abord arraché la vie
au monstre corrupteur des nations. Devant cette épée, tout étendard
fuira ou sera foulé aux pieds. Il n’y aura fossés, remparts, ni murs
assez forts pour défendre les cités contre lui.
 « Ce prince aura toutes les vertus que doit posséder un
empereur victorieux : l’âme du grand César, la prudence du
vainqueur de Trasimène et de Trebbia, et la fortune d’Alexandre,
sans laquelle toute entreprise s’en irait en fumée et en nuages. Sa
libéralité sera telle, que je ne vois personne qui puisse lui être
comparé sur ce point. — »
Ainsi disait Maugis, et son récit inspira aux chevaliers le désir de
connaître le nom des autres personnages qui devaient tuer la bête
infernale. Parmi les premiers, on lisait le nom d’un Bernard [1] , dont
Merlin faisait un grand éloge. Par lui — disait Maugis — Bibiena
deviendra aussi célèbre que Sienne et que Florence sa voisine.
Personne ne passait avant Sigismond, Jean et Ludovic ; le
premier était un Gonzague ; le second, un Salviati ; le troisième, un
Aragon. Tous trois se montraient ennemis acharnés du monstre. Il y
avait également François de Gonzague, dont le fils Frédéric suivait
les traces. Près de lui étaient son beau-frère et son gendre, les
seigneurs de Ferrare et d’Urbino.
Fils de l’un d’eux, Guidobalde ne veut pas rester en arrière de
son père ni des autres. Accompagné d’Ottobon, de Fiesque et de
Sinibald, il donne la chasse à la bête, et tous marchent de front et
d’un pas pressé. Louis de Gazoles a plongé dans le cou du monstre
le fer encore fumant d’une flèche lancée par l’arc que lui donna
Phébus, bien qu’il porte aussi au côté l’épée que Mars lui ceignit lui-
même.
Deux Hercule, deux Hippolyte d’Este, un autre Hercule, un autre
Hippolyte de Gonzague, un autre Hippolyte de Médicis, suivent les
traces du monstre harassé de leur longue poursuite. Julien ne se
laisse point dépasser par son fils, ni Ferrante par son frère ; Andrea
Doria est prompt à courir sur leurs pas, et Francesco Sforza ne
permet à personne de prendre les devants.
Deux d’entre ces personnages, issus du généreux et illustre sang
d’Avalos, ont pour insignes un rocher qui, de la tête aux pieds, paraît
écraser l’impie Typhée, à la queue de serpent. Aucun ne court avec
plus d’empressement que ces deux guerriers à la rencontre de
l’horrible monstre. Au bas de l’un est écrit le nom de François de
Pescaire, l’invincible ; au bas de l’autre on lit : Alphonse du Guast.
Mais comment ai-je oublié Consalve Ferrante, l’honneur de
l’Espagne, tenu en si grande estime, et dont Maugis fit un tel éloge
que peu d’entre ces héros auraient pu lui être comparés ? On voyait
Guillaume de Montferrat, parmi ceux qui mettaient la bête à mort.
Cependant ils étaient peu nombreux, en comparaison de tous ceux
qu’elle avait tués ou blessés.
C’est ainsi qu’en honnêtes passe-temps et en joyeuses
causeries, après le repas, ils passaient les heures brûlantes du jour,
couchés sur de fins tapis, sous les arbres dont la rive était ornée.
Maugis et Vivian, afin de protéger le repos de leurs compagnons,
veillaient tout autour sous les armes. Soudain ils virent une dame,
seule, accourir vers eux en toute hâte.
C’était cette Hippalque à qui Frontin, le bon destrier, avait été ravi
par Rodomont. Elle avait, pendant tout le jour précédent, suivi le
ravisseur, tantôt le suppliant, tantôt l’accablant d’injures. Mais,
n’obtenant aucun résultat, elle avait rebroussé chemin pour aller
retrouver Roger dans Aigremont. En route, elle avait appris, je ne
sais comment, qu’elle le trouverait en cet endroit avec Richardet.
Et comme elle connaissait bien le lieu, y étant allée d’autres fois,
elle s’en vint droit à la fontaine. C’est ainsi qu’elle le rejoignit, comme
je viens de vous le dire. Mais, en bonne et rusée messagère, qui sait
encore mieux s’acquitter de sa mission qu’on ne lui a dit de le faire,
elle fit semblant de ne pas connaître Roger, en le voyant avec le
frère de Bradamante.
Elle se dirigea vers Richardet, comme si c’était pour lui qu’elle fût
venue, et celui-ci, dès qu’il l’eut reconnue, vint à sa rencontre, et lui
demanda où elle allait. Elle, les yeux encore rouges des pleurs
qu’elle avait longuement versés, dit en soupirant, mais assez haut
pour que ses paroles parvinssent à Roger :
« — J’emmenais — dit-elle — par la bride, comme me l’avait
ordonné ta sœur, un cheval beau et bon à merveille. Ta sœur l’aime
beaucoup, et il s’appelle Frontin. Je l’avais conduit déjà plus de
trente milles du côté de Marseille, où elle-même devait se rendre au
bout de quelques jours, et où elle m’avait dit de l’attendre.
« Je cheminais sans crainte, ne croyant pas que quelqu’un fût
assez hardi pour m’enlever ce cheval, quand je lui aurais dit qu’il
était à la sœur de Renaud. Mais hier j’ai été détrompée, car un
ribaud de Sarrasin me l’a pris. J’ai eu beau lui dire à qui appartenait
Frontin, il n’a jamais voulu me le rendre.
« Tout hier et tout aujourd’hui, je l’ai prié, et quand j’ai vu que
prières et menaces étaient vaines, je l’ai laissé, après l’avoir accablé
de malédictions et d’injures, à peu de distance d’ici, défendant de
son mieux le cheval et lui-même contre un guerrier qui lui donne une
telle besogne, que j’espère bien ne pas tarder à être vengée. — »
A ce récit, Roger est soudain sur pieds. Il s’était contenu pour
l’écouter jusqu’au bout. Se tournant vers Richardet, il lui demande,
pour prix du service qu’il lui a rendu — et cela avec des prières sans
fin — de le laisser aller seul avec la dame, jusqu’à ce qu’elle lui ait
fait voir le Sarrasin qui lui a enlevé des mains le bon destrier.
Bien qu’il semble peu loyal à Richardet de laisser à un autre le
soin de terminer une affaire qui lui incombe, il finit cependant par se
rendre aux prières de Roger ; celui-ci prend aussitôt congé de ses
compagnons, et s’éloigne avec Hippalque, laissant les chevaliers
non pas seulement émerveillés, mais stupéfaits de sa vaillance.
Quand ils furent à une certaine distance, Hippalque lui raconta
qu’elle était envoyée vers lui par celle qui portait son image gravée
au plus profond du cœur. Et, sans plus feindre, elle lui dit tout ce que
sa maîtresse l’avait chargée de dire, ajoutant que si elle avait
d’abord parlé d’une autre façon, c’était à cause de la présence de
Richardet.
Elle dit que celui qui lui avait pris le destrier avait ajouté d’un air
plein d’orgueil : « — Puisque je sais que le cheval est à Roger, je le
prends encore plus volontiers justement à cause de cela. S’il a envie
de le ravoir, fais-lui savoir — car je ne tiens pas à le lui cacher —
que je suis ce Rodomont, dont la vaillance projette son éclat sur le
monde entier. — »
 Roger écoute, et, sur son visage, il montre de quelle indignation
son cœur est embrasé. Frontin lui est cher ; de plus, il lui est envoyé
par Bradamante, et voilà qu’on le lui enlève avec des paroles de
mépris ! Il voit quel déshonneur l’atteindra s’il ne s’empresse de
reprendre son cheval à Rodomont et d’en tirer une éclatante
vengeance.
La dame conduit Roger sans s’arrêter, désireuse de le mettre
face à face avec le païen. Elle arrive à un endroit où la route se
divise en deux branches. L’une va vers la plaine, et l’autre sur la
montagne. Toutes deux conduisent à la vallée où elle a laissé
Rodomont. Le chemin qui prend par la montagne est rude, mais plus
court que celui de la plaine ; celui-ci est beaucoup plus long, mais
plus facile.
Le désir qui pousse Hippalque de ravoir Frontin et de venger
l’offense qu’on lui a faite lui fait choisir le sentier de la montagne, qui
doit abréger de beaucoup leur voyage. Pendant ce temps, le roi
d’Alger chevauche par l’autre sentier, en compagnie du Tartare et
des autres chevaliers dont j’ai parlé plus haut. Comme il suit la route
plus facile qui traverse la plaine, il ne peut se rencontrer avec Roger.
Ils ont différé leurs querelles pour porter secours à Agramant.
Cela, vous le savez déjà ; Doralice, cause de tous leurs débats, est
avec eux. Écoutez maintenant la suite de l’histoire. La route qu’ils
suivent conduit droit à la fontaine où Aldigier, Marphise, Richardet,
Maugis et Vivian se livrent aux douceurs du repos.
Marphise, cédant aux prières de ses compagnons, avait revêtu
des vêtements de femme pris parmi ceux que le traître de Mayence
croyait envoyer à Lanfuse. Bien qu’elle se montrât rarement sans
son haubert et sans ses autres bonnes armes, elle consentit à les
retirer ce jour-là, et, sur leurs prières, elle se laissa voir à eux sous
des habits de dame.
Aussitôt que le Tartare voit Marphise, il conçoit l’espérance de la
conquérir, et il lui vient à la pensée de la donner à Rodomont, en
échange de Doralice ; comme si l’amour pouvait s’accommoder de
pareilles façons d’agir ! comme si un amant pouvait vendre ou
changer sa dame, et se consoler de sa perte en en prenant une
autre !
Donc, pour le pourvoir d’une donzelle en remplacement de celle
qu’il lui a enlevée, il conçoit le projet de lui donner Marphise, laquelle
lui semble charmante et belle, et digne de devenir la compagne de
tout chevalier. Il pense qu’elle lui deviendra tout de suite aussi chère
que l’autre. C’est pourquoi, il provoque au combat tous les
chevaliers qu’il voit auprès d’elle.
Maugis et Vivian, qui étaient restés armés pour veiller à la sûreté
du reste de la troupe, s’élancent du lieu où ils se trouvaient, tous
deux prêts au combat et croyant avoir affaire à deux agresseurs.
Mais l’Africain, qui n’est pas venu pour cela, ne fait ni un signe ni un
mouvement pour leur répondre ; de sorte qu’ils se trouvent en
présence d’un seul adversaire.
Vivian arrive le premier ; plein d’ardeur, il met en arrêt sa lourde
lance. De son côté, le roi païen, habitué aux vaillantes prouesses,
s’en vient à sa rencontre avec une énergie plus grande encore. Tous
deux dirigent leur lance là où ils croient que le coup sera plus
dangereux. Vivian frappe en vain le casque du païen ; loin de le faire
tomber, il ne le fait pas même ployer.
Le roi païen, dont la lance est plus dure, fait voler en éclats l’écu
de Vivian, comme s’il eût été de verre, et l’envoie lui-même hors de
selle au milieu du pré, parmi les herbes et les fleurs. Maugis survient
et tente à son tour l’aventure, désireux de venger son frère. Mais il
est si promptement jeté à terre à côté de lui, qu’au lieu de le venger,
il doit se contenter de lui tenir compagnie.
Leur autre frère, plus prompt que leur cousin à revêtir ses armes,
s’est élancé sur son destrier. Défiant le Sarrasin, il accourt à toute
bride à sa rencontre, et brûlant d’ardeur. Sa lance frappe d’un coup
retentissant le casque à fine trempe du païen, à un doigt au-dessous
de la visière. La lance vole au ciel, rompue en quatre tronçons. Mais
le païen n’est pas même ébranlé sous cette botte terrible.
Le païen le frappe au flanc gauche. Le coup est tellement fort,
que l’écu et la cuirasse, n’y pouvant résister, s’entr’ouvrent comme
une écorce. Le fer cruel transperce la blanche épaule. Aldigier, percé
de part en part, ploie sous le coup, et tombe enfin parmi l’herbe et
les fleurs, pâle sous ses armes rouges de sang.
Richardet accourt derrière lui plein de rage, sa lance en arrêt, et
son aspect montre bien, comme toujours, qu’il est un digne paladin
de France. Et il l’eût bien prouvé au païen si les chances fussent
restées égales. Mais il n’arrive pas jusqu’à lui, car, sans qu’il y ait de
sa faute, son cheval tombe et l’entraîne.
Aucun autre chevalier ne se montrant pour lutter avec le païen,
celui-ci pense avoir gagné le prix de la bataille, c’est-à-dire la dame.
Il vient à elle, près de la fontaine, et dit : « — Damoiselle, vous êtes
à moi, à moins que quelqu’un ne monte encore en selle pour
combattre en votre faveur. Vous ne pouvez vous refuser à le
reconnaître, car c’est la loi de la guerre. — »
Marphise, levant la tête d’un air altier, dit : « — Tu te trompes
beaucoup. Je reconnais que tu dirais vrai, en prétendant que je
t’appartiens selon le droit de guerre, si l’un de ceux que tu as jetés à
terre eût été mon seigneur ou mon chevalier. Mais je ne suis à
aucun d’eux ; je ne suis à personne autre qu’à moi. Donc, c’est à
moi-même que celui qui désire m’avoir doit m’enlever.
« Moi aussi, je sais manier l’écu et la lance, et j’ai jeté à terre plus
d’un chevalier. — » Et, se tournant vers les écuyers : « — Donnez-
moi — dit-elle — mes armes et mon destrier. — » Elle enlève ses
vêtements de femme et apparaît en simple chemisette, montrant les
beautés et les admirables proportions d’un corps dont chaque partie,
si ce n’est le visage, semble appartenir à Mars.
A peine armée, elle ceint son épée, saute légèrement à cheval, le
fait caracoler trois ou quatre fois de côté et d’autre, puis, défiant le
Sarrasin, elle saisit sa forte lance et commence l’assaut. Telle, dans
le camp troyen, devait être Pentésilée [2] , combattant contre Achille
le Thessalien.
A la terrible rencontre, les deux lances se brisent jusqu’à la
poignée, comme verre. Pourtant les adversaires ne plient pas d’un