A Knight's Tale: Kenilworth

by Gabriella West

  A herald announced each fight and blew his horn. It was all a blur of names and helmeted knights holding shields and lances. The ladies clapped dutifully at each new encounter. I did not tell Thomas, but I was beginning to find it all a bit boring. He went off and came back with a meat pie for each of us. We’d both been given a few coins for the occasion. He showed me a long scarlet silk ribbon he’d bought for Christiana.

  He rarely talked about her now. I suspected their relationship had turned carnal, but he didn’t say. He just seemed distracted a lot of the time, and so was I, but our friendship felt more protective, if anything.

  “It’s good,” I said, chewing. “We should have ale as well.”

  “We shall, later,” Thomas agreed. “I want to make sure Henry’s joust goes off without a hitch.”

  “They won’t be fighting each other, will they?”

  “No. Where would be the fun in that?”

  I looked for Simon and saw him, sitting patiently on his steed among the other knights. I could recognize him when his visor was up. Now he was looking up. I watched him go close to the ladies’ gallery and a tall woman in an elaborate headdress threw him a piece of white silk. He wrapped it around his arm. He did this in the dashing, natural way he did everything, even blowing her a kiss.

  “Does he even know her?” Thomas said in a bored voice. “Some married lady, probably. Trust Simon. Henry won’t be as silly as that.”

  Henry was focused as ever, sitting upright on his horse.

  “Their cousin is here today, Henry of Almain,” Thomas murmured. “He’s the son of Richard of Cornwall, the King’s brother.”

  The herald announced Sir Henry de Montfort’s name and the name of another knight.

  The knights lowered their visors, the only moment I found thrilling. Well, that and the moment of impact, but I didn’t like the brutal thud they made when they collided.

  What if Simon gets unhorsed? I thought. As his squire, I would have to go tend to him.

  “There’s a big tent with medics, in case you wondered,” Thomas put in. “I’ve never seen anyone badly injured, though. I mean, not in the jousting part. The lances are blunted.”

  “But you didn’t go to the one last year.”

  “I didn’t, but my father took me to one when I was a young lad. In London. I saw the King there, and Prince Edward.”

  He spoke proudly. I felt an odd surge of affection for him.

  “I’d like to go to London one day,” I said mildly. He grinned at me.

  “You should stay with us! When all of this squiring is over, we’ll be able to travel around as we please.”

  He spoke so confidently. I thought for a moment of Stephen, stuck in his priory. A pang of grief and regret hit me. Perhaps Stephen would be a shadow of his former self when I saw him again. We’d led such different lives since being parted.

  Henry was riding confidently toward his opponent. I watched as the horses flew together. The knight was no match for Henry’s lance and toppled off his horse. The ladies clapped. Men cheered.

  “Not bad,” said Thomas with relish. “He’ll probably have another go. Once you’ve done it once, you want to do it again.”

  He glanced at me as if wondering if I’d caught the double entendre, but I simply nodded.

  “Sorry I’m not much fun,” I said casually.

  “Oh...” he shrugged. “I understand.”

  “What do you understand, Tom?”

  I rarely called him that.

  Henry rode over, his face damp with sweat as he lifted his helmet off.

  “Keep this for me, will you, Thomas? I want to go refresh myself.”

  He rode off briskly. Thomas tucked the helm under his arm.

  “I’m glad he’s not a heavy drinker,” Thomas mused.

  There was silence between us for a little while.

  Then he said, “Well, I understand things can’t be easy. You’re not as unhappy as you were last year, though, I notice.”

  “I didn’t get dead drunk at Christmas anyway,” I said uneasily.

  “But you didn’t get very merry either.” He seemed a little nervous. “Christiana thinks you’re avoiding her.”

  “She said that?”

  He nodded. “Well, you know how women are. They always make things so complicated.”

  “I used to like going up to visit her, it’s true,” I said with an effort. “But now you and she are so serious, it doesn’t seem right.”

  My words sounded hollow. Thomas clapped me on the back.

  “That’s sweet, Will. But we’re not engaged. And I trust you. You’re not interested in Christiana. You never were.”

  “That’s true,” I answered.

  “Sir Simon de Montfort,” the herald announced. “And Sir Henry of Almain!”

  A hush fell over the crowd.

  Henry was five years older than Simon, I gathered, and a quick and nimble fighter like his cousin. They were well-matched, though Henry was far higher in rank, I knew that much.

  The horses ran towards each other, Simon’s arm holding his lance steady. I looked at the silk ribbon tied around his arm.

  I wished I had given him something. If he died today, he’d never know what I felt. I gulped. Even I didn’t know exactly what my feelings were, only that I should not be having them.

  I heard Thomas gasp by my side and saw his knuckles grip the wooden bar in front of us. The ladies cried out.

  Henry of Almain had been violently knocked off his horse. He hit the ground with a thud, but got up gamely, removing his helmet and bowing to Simon, who leapt off his horse and embraced him. It was an odd, courtly moment.

  The judges, who sat in a central box, were busy scribbling notes.

  “They award the purses later,” Thomas whispered. “Poor Henry, it’s always hard to be bested by a younger man.”

  “He took it in good humor,” I answered, watching Simon approach us on foot, his hair dark with sweat. A groom had taken his horse.

  “I should do another, but that moment was just too sweet!” he quipped. “Is my brother off drinking already?”

  “Yes, my lord,” Thomas answered.

  “Then I’d better go find him. We’ll leave after the purses are given out. If you’d like to watch the melee, you two go ahead. I’ll come find you later.”

  He passed me his helm, which was dripping. It felt odd to have his warm sweat drip onto my bare arm.

  Thomas had turned away, distracted by something.

  “I’m going to go back home separately from Henry,” Simon said quietly to me. “The lady who gave me this,” he fingered the ribbon on his arm, “has offered us hospitality for the night. She says her husband is away on pilgrimage. I’ll need you to help me disrobe.”

  He waited a beat, as if expecting to hear me protest.

  I nodded dumbly.

  He clapped me on the shoulder. “That’s all you can say? All right. Don’t worry, Will, I know the lady from last year and she keeps a fine table.” He winked as if recalling a particularly juicy memory.

  “So he did know her,” I murmured as I watched Simon stride off towards the victuals tent.

  Thomas had turned back toward me. “Just my luck! Henry always wants to go straight home. Well, it’s better that one son returns today, or else Lady Eleanor will worry.”

  “I wish you could go instead of me,” I answered moodily.

  “Oh, come on, Will, at least enjoy a good meal and a fine bed. I know you’ll have to put up with Simon flirting and cavorting, but not for much longer.”

  “Two more years, Tom,” I sighed.

  “You can do it, Will,” he answered.

  ***

  Simon stood in front of me before supper in the upstairs chamber we were supposed to share at the lady’s house in the town of Warwick, a fine, tall half-timbered building. Unfortunately, he was drunk and I was becoming quite nervous.

  There was one big four-poster bed. I glanced at it.

  “Don’t worry, Will
, I’ll be warming the lady’s bed tonight, not yours.”

  He bent over at the waist, sticking his arms out, and I pulled his hauberk off in one smooth motion.

  “Very good,” he said. “Now the gambeson.”

  I removed the gambeson. Underneath he just wore a thin white shirt.

  “There’s a door here,” he said suddenly. He moved to unlatch a door, which led to an adjacent chamber.

  “That’s not the lady’s bedchamber, is it?” I asked, tensing up.

  He nodded. “You can watch or listen if you want. I thought it might be fun for you.”

  “No, my lord.” I felt a sudden wave of anger. “I don’t need to see it.”

  He flushed, I wasn’t sure whether in anger or some other emotion. “Christ, how prudish you are.” He shut the door, though.

  “I’m trying...” My words were hoarse and stuck in my throat. “I’m trying to...”

  “I know.” He came up close and suddenly his warm body was pressed against mine. Through the thin cloth, it was as if he was naked. “But you’re doing something impossible. Trying to stay chaste at sixteen is unnatural. It certainly was for me.”

  I leaned into his chest and he stroked the hair on my head gently, wrapping his arm around me.

  “I won’t force you,” he whispered. “Just watch later...it’ll be fun.”

  I kept my eyes closed. My body throbbed against his, betraying my need.

  “Sir Simon!” The lady rapped on the door. “I brought some hot water for you.”

  “Leave it outside, I’m disrobing,” Simon called back.

  We heard her footsteps descending the stairs.

  He tilted my face up to his and then brought his mouth down on mine. I opened my lips to his kiss. I could taste the wine on his breath.

  We just stood staring at each other when we broke off. Finally he said, “Go get the water.”

  I stumbled to the door and brought in the basin and folded cloth.

  “Wash me,” he said, shrugging his shirt off. I began to daub at his bare chest, washing under his arms and down his strong back.

  “I’ll do the rest,” he said gently. “This water feels so good. It’s a luxury we don’t get at the castle.”

  He stepped out of his leggings and knelt down to scrub himself. I sat on the bed, looking at him: his powerful chest, his muscled stomach, and the manhood that sprang forth from between his thighs. That swollen, fat length completely silenced me. I watched as he caressed himself with a firm hand.

  “I won’t be able to be civil to the lady at dinner,” he said, “unless I—oh God, that’s good.”

  He tilted back his head and moaned.

  Shock and fascination were warring within me. He beckoned silently. I walked over, my feet making no noise on the floor.

  I stood before him and he palmed me between the legs. Yes, I was bulging. He unbuttoned my hose and told me to touch myself.

  I stroked gently, aroused by his eyes on my cock.

  It only took a few moments. When I was close, and my legs were beginning to shake, he leaned over and took me in his mouth. I cried out and came almost instantly.

  I buttoned up quickly, embarrassed by my own lust. “I’m sorry, my lord,” I began.

  He stood up. “What’s to be sorry for? Kneel down and let me guide you.”

  I knelt on the wooden boards and almost gratefully accepted his cock in my mouth. It was so wide I had to fight for a moment to take it in. His movement was very gentle.

  “No teeth. That’s right. Good boy, Will.”

  His hand was in my hair, caressing my cheek. I had never done this with Stephen and was surprised that I had not. Simon’s musky, clean smell appealed to me.

  “That’s good,” he said, slurring his words slightly. “Sorry, I take a long time. I’m nearly there, though. Just look up at me.”

  I gazed upwards, noticing his eyes were almost black with lust. He began thrusting forward harder, his eyes locked on mine.

  I cupped his balls, rolling them slightly. His cock gave a huge throb.

  “Oh, Will, I’m...”

  He came in spurts and I swallowed his seed eagerly, remembering what Stephen had done for me.

  He tasted bitter, and it was apt, because the moment was bittersweet. I felt disappointed in myself, but freed, as I stared up at him. I felt so much lighter. Giddy.

  He pulled me up and we kissed. This time I wrapped my arms around him and allowed myself to delight in his embrace.

  “I want to fuck you so badly, but I won’t,” he told me. “I won’t even let this happen again.”

  “Why not, my lord?” I whispered.

  “Well, for one thing you’re so young. And you’re in love with someone else. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

  I bowed my head.

  “Don’t be ashamed, Will. You tempt me, but...” He paused. “While you’re a squire you can’t truly decide. You’re used to obeying my commands. Isn’t that so?”

  I nodded.

  “When you’re a knight, though, we will be peers.”

  “Peers,” I said dazedly. “Like royalty.”

  “Peers, equals.”

  “No, we’ll never be equals, my lord.”

  He smiled at me. “In my eyes, we are now.”

  He walked away and began dressing, checking his appearance in a long glass in the corner of the room. He whistled a tune softly.

  “How do you feel?” I heard him say.

  “Marvelous. Drowsy.” I had climbed onto the bed and was lying back on the pillows now, barely able to keep my eyes open.

  “Stay here and sleep if you want. You don’t have to watch me flirt with the lady. I’ll bring you up a cold supper later.”

  He was slipping out the door. I raised myself on my elbow.

  “Can I keep the door closed, Simon?” I asked. “Between the chambers, I mean?”

  “Yes,” he answered. “Forget what I said earlier. I think you’ve had enough instruction for the night.”

  “Are you really never going to touch me again?” I asked.

  He walked up to the bed and pulled me up into a brief, passionate embrace.

  “Not at the castle, no,” he said in a whisper.

  “But why?”

  “Because I don’t want my brothers and the knights to view you as my slut,” he said bluntly.

  My face turned red.

  “You know what they’re like. You deserve respect, and I’m not sure if you could keep it if anyone suspected.”

  “But they must have guessed about Stephen and me.”

  “Mm,” Simon said expressionlessly. “In that case, they assumed you were buggering him, so he was the slut.”

  My good mood was gone. I bit my lip, staring at him.

  “Did you think that?” I asked.

  “That you were buggering him? Yes, I did.”

  He collected himself and began to move towards the door. He seemed nervous.

  “Simon, please,” I said boldly.

  He turned.

  “What am I to you?” I asked.

  He paused, hand on the doorknob.

  “I don’t know what to call it,” he admitted. He sounded confused, a little lost himself. “I hold you dearly. I care for you, Will, more than I should. I want you by my side.”

  I nodded. “Yes. My place is there.”

  “But not as—I will have to marry some day, you know.”

  “And I intend to find Stephen again. I suppose you think it’s childish.”

  He shook his head. “Not at all. I think it’s noble.”

  The lady called out from below.

  “She’s been very patient,” he said with a grin.

  Yet we still looked at each other.

  “Did this help?” he asked quietly.

  I nodded, my drowsy eyes blinking to focus on his handsome face.

  “I’ve never wanted for partners,” he whispered. “And yet...you’re the one I cherish most of all, don’t forget that. But you’re d
estined for better things than me. A truer love.”

  “I haven’t been faithful to him,” I murmured. But there was no sadness in my heart. I just accepted it, that I had slipped, and I hoped one day Stephen would forgive me.

  “Forgive me,” Simon said humbly, in an echo of my thoughts.

  “There’s naught to forgive,” I told him.

  “That’s what I like to hear.” He grinned.

  I heard the door shut as I lay back and closed my eyes. The bed was heaven, the mattress thick and soft and warm, stuffed with feathers.

  I slept for a very long time, not even hearing the inevitable noises in the other room. Towards morning, Simon crept into bed beside me. He kissed me on the forehead, that was all.

  “It’s been a long night, Will,” he murmured.

  I could smell the lady on him. Now I could not touch him, I thought, because she had been all over him, and he seemed to sense that.

  “One day there may be another chance,” he murmured.

  He clasped my hand and held it for a moment. Then he slumbered.

  I lay peacefully, watching him for a long time as the dawn rose behind the shutters and the room started to brighten. I saw the covered dish he had left for me in the corner on a little table. I rose noiselessly and crouched down shirtless on a cushion, devouring drumsticks, thick slices of buttered bread, and a slab of sharp white cheese.

  I had spent the night with Simon. Even though only partly true, it felt like that.

  Carts were clattering on the square outside. It was market day in Warwick.

  I thought of Stephen waking in his little cell, or perhaps it was a dormitory. He smiled at me, in my imagination.

  I wish I could talk to you, I murmured. “I need your counsel.”

  We both love you, Will. I seemed to hear his voice in my head. You don’t have to choose, because circumstances will choose for you.

  Is that what will happen? I asked the dream-Stephen, whom I could conjure up so clearly in that comfortable, quiet room.

  Yes. Let Simon go his own way and don’t pursue him. He won’t forget you, but he won’t pursue you either. He needs you most as a squire, as a friend. He needs your loyalty, above all.