Gregor s Uncle
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Gregor Of Hartshorn Hill free porn video
Note from the author:
Jarrod of Hartshorn Hill is the First of this Series.
Druesha of Hartshorn Hill is the Second of this Series.
Fallon of Hartshorn Hill is the Third of this Series.
Evan of Hartshorn Hill is the Fourth of this Series.
Avalon of Hartshorn Hill is the Fifth of this Series.
* * * * *
Gregor had been born a slave. Usually when you are born a slave, you never know your parents. Slave babies are sent to the slave nursery until they are old enough to perform simple household chores. But Gregor’s mother had been Druesha, a favorite of Lord Hartshorn. Although she was not allowed to keep him with her, Druesha made sure Gregor knew she was his mother and who was his father.
It did not matter that his father was the Lord of the Hill. The law stated if one of your parents was a slave, you were a slave. He was not bitter nor did he envy his half-siblings. From an early age, he was taught the basics of an education. All slave children were until they were old enough to do chores, usually around 8 years of age. He had then been assigned to the gardens and had worked there every since.
His mother was long gone from the Hill. She had advanced in her position over the years and proven her worth so she was now the housekeeper at Fredyn Keep, another of the Lord’s holdings. She was content and since she also was able to read and write, mother and son kept up a correspondence.
When he had first laid eyes upon Avalon, he had been smitten. It had not bothered him they shared blood. He had never been acknowledged as Lord Hartshorn’s and never would be so it did not even come into Gregor’s mind. He just knew he had to have her and the more he got to know her, the more he fell in love with her. When she ran out of the garden, he was shocked but he thought for sure she would return. She did not.
Day after day he waited for her in the garden and she did not return. He did not understand why she was ignoring him. He thought of trying to pass her a note but he did not trust any of the other slaves. He tried to think of some reason he could enter the house but he was the gardener. He stayed outside the hall day and night after his duties were completed, hoping to catch a glimpse of her and find out why she had not returned to him.
Every day he grew sadder and more despondent. He became lax in his duties, he knew, but all he could think about was Avalon. Every time he turned around, he hoped to see her. Every time he breathed, he hoped to smell her scent. Every time he looked into the sky, he saw her eyes. He could not help the way he felt about her.
He did not think it was wrong. She was only a half sister. That was not a large enough obstacle to keep Gregor from what he wanted. So he continued to moon and pine for her, wondering why she was ignoring him.
On the last Monday of every month, the Overseer went about at the crack of dawn and gathered the slaves that were going to market. It was called going to market as they were not seen again in most cases. They were not going shopping. The slaves that were old, infirm, disabled, ill or unneeded were taken off to market to be sold. Sometimes, as in Druesha’s case, they are just being taken to another of the Lord’s holdings. But every one knew if the Overseer came for you, you would not be returning to the Hill. Therefore, Gregor was rightfully dismayed when the Overseer came for him the last Monday of that month. Gregor was kicked rudely awake and told to gather his personal belongings and report to the Overseer in one hour.
Gregor was in despair. He knew he was being sent from the Hill and from Avalon but he did not understand why. He wanted to scream and cry. Avalon would never know what had happened to him. He would never know what had happened to Avalon. It was then, as he was packing his meager belongings, that he realized that it was because of him and Avalon he was being sent away. She must have told someone which is why she stopped coming to see him.
Being the romantic he was, it did not cross his mind that Avalon elected to stop their meetings. He felt she was forced to stop them. He growled in fury as he stomped around his dwelling. This was unfair. Avalon was his!
He was still steaming angry and seething when the Overseer came back, pounding on his door and saying it was time to go. Gregor thought of punching the man, refusing to cooperate but all that would gain him was a beating. Instead he threw open the door and glared into the face of the startled man.
‘Who?’ Gregor demanded, ‘Who told you to take me?’
The Overseer was so stunned he opened his mouth to speak before he realized he probably should not have, ‘Lady Fallon Hartshorn.’
Avalon’s mother, of course. Avalon had undoubtedly told her what had occurred and so Gregor was being sent away. He wanted to kick and scream but that would just cause a scene. Instead he demanded of the Overseer ‘Where am I being sent?’
The Overseer, finally remembering his place, paused and rubbed his chin. ‘Can’t rightly say. Not that it is any of your business, slave. But you’ll be traveling on from the market.’
At least he wasn’t being sold, that was one small blessing. But he was being sent from the Hill and Avalon, both of which he would probably never see again. Tears filled his eyes at the thought of being separated from his beloved but he had no choice. He was a slave after all.
The wagon they used to transport slaves was barred. There really was no reason for this because Gregor could not tell you the last time a slave had tried to escape. There was no place to run. The entire country was filled with slaves and slave owners. You were one or the other. And Gregor would always be a slave. And Avalon would always be an owner.
His head hung low as he climbed into the back of the wagon, clutching the bag that contained his few possessions. He was the last of the slaves to get inside and the Overseer shut the barred door with a heavy thud before he locked the padlock. He moved around to the front of the wagon then to consult with the wagon driver before stepping aside. The Overseer would not be going to market as he had completed his portion of the work. He had rounded up the ones to be taken and gotten them loaded into the wagon. Now the wagon driver and the slave driver who rode beside him would take over.
Gregor paid no attention to the other slaves in the wagon. If you had asked him if they were male or female, he could not answer. His mind, his heart, his thoughts, his soul were all being left behind at Hartshorn Hill. He was leaving Avalon, his love, his life. He did not know how he could continue on without her but he knew he would try. As long as he was still alive, there was always the chance, even slight, of seeing his beloved once more. He had to hold out hope or there was no reason for him to keep on living.
As the driver flicked his whip over the horses, the wagon began to move away from the Hill, up the curving drive to the road that lead into the nearest town. When it pulled around the front of the house, where Gregor could see the large sprawling building into which Avalon had disappeared and never come back to him, he began to shout.
‘Avalon!’ He cried out loudly, it filled the wagon and beyond. ‘Avalon!’ He shouted out for his beloved, needing her now more than ever. ‘Avalon!’ He screamed, unwilling to let go of his love for her. ‘Avalon!’ He yelled as the wagon rolled down the road and out of sight. ‘Avalon! Avalon! Avalon!’
Gregor was taken to Fredyn Keep, where his mother was housekeeper. He tended the gardens there most of his natural life. He never saw Avalon again.
Avalon swears to this day on the last Monday of every month she can hear him calling out her name again and again until it fades out of range.
Jayla
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