A Knight's Tale: Kenilworth

by Gabriella West

  “You look at me strangely, Will,” Simon said suddenly. “I’m sorry about Warwick. We would have had a good time, I’m sure.”

  The corners of his mouth quirked. His eyes were warm.

  No words came to me. I finally said, “I understand, my lord.”

  He clapped me on the shoulder briefly. “I wish it were otherwise.”

  The sun had gone behind a cloud and an early summer shower started to sprinkle on us. I did not move for shelter, and nor did Simon. He breathed deeply, looking up at the sky.

  “I wish it would hurry up and be over with, all this,” he said. “To have to wait another year to fight the King! King Henry, unfortunately, is very cautious. He knows how good a soldier my father is. Prince Edward and the King’s brother, Richard of Cornwall, are with us too. Though that alliance may not last. I don’t know why, but I have an uneasy feeling about it.”

  The little shower petered out and the warmth of the summer day rose up around us again.

  “You must be bored here, Will,” he said. I looked at him, as if for the first time. His gaze was steady and sincere in his handsome face, which was less boyish than when I’d first met him. He now showed some stubble and his hair was darker, the way that blond hair always darkens with age. He had a cleft in his chin that added to the appeal.

  “I could do with some entertainment,” I said flippantly.

  He chuckled. We could hear the horse moving about inside, breathing hard in the way horses do, and the sloshing of the pail and the brush as the groom steadily cleaned him.

  “I’d love to help you,” he said. If anyone had overheard, they wouldn’t have known what he meant. But I did.

  My stomach twisted. “I don’t expect that.” We spoke quietly, our heads almost together, his hand resting on my arm.

  “I know. I’m sorry it’s been like this, with us.”

  It was intimate, too intimate, so I blurted out the first thing that came into my head.

  “Better like this than like Christiana!”

  He looked at me in shock, stepping back. The groom appeared at the doorway. “All done now, my lord.”

  “Thank you, Giles.” Simon said in a louder voice. The man touched his cap and hastened away.

  “She told you? I’m surprised.”

  “Yes, we’re quite close. Don’t be angry with her. Nobody else knows, not even Thomas.”

  Simon nodded. “Just as well. Well, now you see how selfish I can be. I’m sorry I hurt the poor girl. Amusing myself with people—that’s something I do less as I get older.” Since I didn’t speak, he added: “I’m trying not to do it with you.”

  “You can’t really undo what’s been done,” I said, uncomfortable.

  He sighed. “Yes, you’re right about that. I regret... many things.”

  It was impossible to be angry at him. He had a way of agreeing reasonably with what you said, of admitting his faults.

  “I don’t regret it,” I said. “I don’t. It made me happy.”

  He looked at me intently.

  “It was the only thing that made me happy since Stephen left.”

  Simon was silent. He seemed to be weighing something in his mind. Finally he murmured, “It’s been three years since he’s gone, hasn’t it?”

  I nodded. “More than.”

  “We have messengers going to and fro all the time these days. I should have suggested this before. I’ll send a man to the Oxford priory and get word from Stephen for you.”

  I glowed. There was no other way to put it. He saw me smiling, and he smiled too.

  “You’d do that?” I said breathlessly.

  He laughed. “Yes, and you should have asked me before! Why didn’t you, Will?”

  “I don’t know, I suppose I thought you were barely aware of him. And it’s such a long journey.”

  Some color crept into his cheek. “Stephen and I weren’t close, it’s true, but it wasn’t as if I ignored him. I noticed your friendship.”

  He bent his head as if he didn’t want to say more. “I must go. It’s just as well that we talked. Too much was building up between us.”

  I had nothing to say to that, and it was an odd note to end on. I watched him walk away.

  Then I turned back into the stables to visit Lucy. She had become fat and elderly, but was always grateful for a visit. I had been charmed to see that young Eleanor was learning to ride on her now. I hadn’t ridden her for a long time. I probably never would again, which made me sad.

  “Those days are over, Lucy,” I said soothingly to her, and my voice choked up a bit, thinking of Stephen, thinking too of my mother and all I had left behind.

  ***

  A week later I was asleep in my chamber just before dawn when I heard the clopping of hooves through the main gate. It sounded like a group of people returning, not a lone messenger, so I put aside my hopes of a letter. I lay half asleep thinking of Stephen, looking over at his empty bed as the room slowly brightened.

  A quick rap came on my door. I had no idea who it might be, but roused myself, stumbling slightly.

  “Who is it?” I called.

  “Simon,” his voice said.

  I unbolted the door with a sense of mingled dread and excitement. Simon tumbled into the room—that was how I saw it—in a light tunic and hose with bare feet, and then drew himself up short, looking around in surprise.

  “God, it’s small. My first time in here, isn’t that odd?”

  He was talking wildly, his face smeared with dirt. I touched his forehead. It was quite hot.

  “You should go lie down,” I said, frowning. Why was he here? I didn’t like it, and I pulled my light shirt around me.

  “I nearly died tonight, Will,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Yes, I was thrown from my horse. Another horse passed over me and almost kicked me in the head. I could hear the hoof whistling by my ear.”

  I opened the shutter and made him stand in the faint light so I could see his face. He had a deep red abrasion running down his cheek.

  “That’s where I hit the ground,” he explained.

  I moved into squire mode. “Who took off your armor?” I asked.

  “Henry,” he said, shrugging. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

  He was swaying on his feet, so I guided him to my bed. He collapsed gratefully.

  “Oh, I know I shouldn’t be here, Will. I’m sorry. The real reason is, we passed the messenger on the way. I thought you’d like this.” He pulled out a folded sheet of parchment from his pocket, a red wax seal affixed. I took it in astonishment.

  “You look like you can’t believe it,” he said fondly.

  “I can’t. Thank you.”

  I cursed myself silently as a strange urge to kiss him hit me. I moved away from him across the room, to the other bed. Stephen’s pallet. I sat down, covering myself with a blanket. I placed the letter where his pillow would have been.

  Simon lay on his side, watching me. “We were out on a raid, as I told you. We didn’t end up getting the people we wanted, though. It was unsuccessful. At least we scouted around. It was in Warwick, at the castle. Father wants to capture the earl there, William Maudit, and his lady. He’s no friend of ours. But it didn’t happen tonight. They’re too well guarded.”

  I listened in a daze. All I could think of was Stephen, and what he might have written in the letter.

  “And yes, he’s alive,” Simon yawned. “I asked the messenger to be sure to speak to him directly.” He winced slightly as his cheek touched the pillow. He closed his eyes.

  “You’re in pain,” I said. I got up and went to the cedar chest, opening it and picking up the salve Stephen had left me. I had wanted to keep some for when he returned. It was silly, though, I told myself: I could easily get more.

  So I brought the little vial over to my bed and knelt by Simon’s side. I rubbed some on the right side of his face as he struggled to sit up. Eyes closed, he looked more innocent.

  “Turn on to your
left side now,” I said.

  He obeyed, curling up, though it meant he was facing the wall. “I just need to take a short rest,” he murmured.

  “Do it,” I said. I could read the letter!

  I sat cross-legged on the pallet and broke the seal.

  It was in Latin, of course. Stephen’s script was neat and beautiful. I wondered whose eyes had seen this, other than mine and his. I knew he would have to be careful in what he said.

  My dearest Will,

  I want to send you this short missive to prove that I am still alive and healthy. I am glad you are well, also. I asked the messenger, who must see you often. He says you are a handsome young man. I am sure he is right!

  Enough of that. It has been a long time since we saw each other. Next year they want me to join the order. This would happen in early September. I thought you would like to know in case you are able to visit here before then. If you are, ask for Brother Anselm. He is a healer and I help him in his work.

  Of course I would love to see you again.

  In your heart,

  Stephen

  PS. Try not to be so miserable at Christmas-time! I can see it, you know.

  As I sat staring at this in wonderment, I heard Simon stir. He got up slowly, yawning, smiling in my direction.

  “All right. It’s back to bed for me, I suppose. Did you know I share one with my brother Henry?”

  I shook my head.

  “We always have. He and I were so close in age, you see, that it made sense. This wretched pallet isn’t very comfortable, Will.”

  “It’s not,” I admitted, trying not to smile.

  “Oh, you look delighted,” he observed, watching me. “So, your Stephen remembers you. Happy now?”

  “I’m happy,” I said. I got up off the bed and came towards him. We embraced.

  He ran his thumb over my lips and jaw. “Such full lips you have.”

  The castle was completely quiet.

  He turned my face to his. “I want to kiss you, but...”

  “Kiss me,” I whispered. This was a dangerous kiss, though, our tongues tangling, our bodies pressing tight through our thin clothes.

  I ended up back on the bed, Simon on top of me. He was still dressed and I suddenly felt very exposed as he pulled my nightshirt up.

  I moaned as he sucked and bit my nipples. The pleasure was exquisite.

  “Do you like this?” he asked.

  “I don’t know—but yes...”

  His strong hand stroked my stiffening cock. It was what I needed, so I didn’t protest, and I closed my eyes for brief moments, opening them to watch his face. I loved his weight on top of me, letting him have his way.

  “Nearly there?” he asked.

  I was biting my lip, trying not to cry out, but I did cry out as I spent, gushing all over his hand and shirt.

  “It’s a white shirt anyway,” he said with a smile, drying his hands on a cloth hanging nearby. His cheek looked better now, but he was still clearly exhausted.

  “I don’t know how that happened, but who cares?” he mused.

  “But what about you?” I asked. I could see his arousal.

  “Mmm, next time,” he murmured.

  “But not here,” I said. I looked over at Stephen’s bed with a feeling of remorse. “I didn’t want to... I don’t know what happened to me.”

  “Lust,” Simon said. He was standing, looking at me. I got up, too, my shirt falling down to cover my bare flesh.

  “Just that?”

  “No,” he answered. The castle was starting to wake up now. “Love.”

  “What?”

  “I love you, Will.” He looked sad as he said it. “You should know that. In case I ever am killed by a horse. Or when the time to fight comes.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t understand. You didn’t love Christiana. I thought you couldn’t...”

  “You thought I couldn’t fall in love with anybody?” he said with a sigh. “Well, actually, you aren’t far wrong. I’ve only been in love with two people. One was another boy, long ago.”

  His face looked tense as he said the words. He glanced at the window.

  “She told me. Christiana.”

  “Oh, she let you in on that secret? Well, everybody here knew in the end. Because Father publicly lectured us and sent him away. In view of everyone, out there in the courtyard.”

  “Oh...” I murmured. “Stephen didn’t tell me...”

  “He would have been, what, eleven? He probably didn’t understand.”

  Simon’s voice was bleak.

  “I accepted it as best I could. I bent to Father’s will. Later, I even understood how angry he was. I’d flaunted it. I hadn’t bothered to be careful because somehow I thought I’d get away with it. My passion was so strong.”

  I nodded.

  “So you see, Will, why I’ve tried to be careful this time. But I’m still in love with you.” His sudden laughter had an edge to it.

  I stood watching him in shock, my heart warring with my head.

  “Tell me what you want,” he said softly. “Guide me here.”

  “I want to go to bed with you,” I blurted out.

  There was silence between us. He drew in a deep breath.

  “Do you want two lovers?” he asked. “Because I don’t think I can handle that.”

  “No,” I answered finally. “I want us to go to bed together once, that’s all.”

  He nodded, saying nothing.

  “It’s my fault,” he said after a bit. “I kept showing you how much I wanted you. I ought to have kept my hands off you.”

  “I would have loved you anyway,” I murmured. “Even if Stephen had stayed, I think I would.”

  He sighed. I held out my hand to him and he clasped it.

  “Do you want to stop?” I asked, trembling.

  “I don’t want to stop, no. But I think we should stop. Don’t you?”

  “No,” I said.

  He shook his head. “Oh, Will. This is madness.”

  Perhaps it was, but it felt like I had never been more truthful.

  “I promise. When you’re eighteen,” he said finally. “Maybe by then you’ll decide you don’t want it.”

  I had become so accustomed to waiting that the long wait didn’t seem cruel.

  “And no more of this till then.” He gestured to the bed. “You have no idea how hard it is to control once it starts.”

  “I know what passion is.” I glanced at Stephen’s bed. “I know I’m betraying him, but he told me to follow my instincts. In case you’re wondering.”

  Simon bowed his head. “I confess I did wonder. The whole thing baffles me. I thought I could control what I felt for you. But—I can’t.”

  He was so tired his words were slurred.

  “You should go,” I whispered.

  Our lips met again, gently. We drank each other in. Heat was coming off him in waves. I ran my hands up and down his hard chest, fighting the urge to kneel down before him, take him in my mouth.

  “My brother will wonder what has happened to me,” he said. “I won’t tell him, though. It’s our secret, Will.”

  “Yes, our secret,” I told him.

  But I knew Stephen could see it. Had already seen it. Would know what I intended.

  It didn’t matter.

  As I closed the door behind Simon and stood against it, still breathing hard, I vowed to go rescue Stephen before next autumn and bring him back to the castle.

  What would happen then, I didn’t know.

  Chapter 13

  I made sure to track down the messenger who had brought back the letter from Oxford. He was Lady Eleanor’s man, Wilecok. He was a strange, scrawny fellow with a ripped leather jerkin.

  I buttonholed him after supper about a week later when I caught him wandering out into the courtyard. I had no idea where he slept, or anything about him, really.

  “Thank you for the letter,” I said. “The one you brought back from Oxford for me.”

&nb
sp; “Thass all right, Master Will,” he said in a slurred voice. I realized it was because he had only a few teeth left in his mouth.

  “I just wanted to ask you about Stephen, the man who gave it to you.”

  “Seemed like a boy to me,” Wilecok said, grinning.

  “All right. Was he very thin?”

  “Thin? No. Seemed healthy enough, about your height. Not as bulky as yourself.” He eyed me with some private amusement.

  “Was he in poor spirits?”

  Wilecok reflected. “Ah, well, he’s a monk, they’re not going to be loud and boisterous, are they?”

  “He’s not a monk,” I said before I could stop myself.

  “Close enough, then.” The man shrugged. “Still has all his hair, to be sure. And clean-shaven. Probably couldn’t grow a beard if he wanted to.”

  “Was he pleased to see you?” I asked.

  Wilecok nodded. “He was. Very startled. Turned red, a bit. Then he told me to get some victuals and he rushed off to write the letter.”

  “Did he have any other message for me?” This I asked in a whisper.

  “Nay, master. I would have come to tell you if that were the case.”

  I paused, desperate to get something out of him. “He seemed at home there?”

  “Aye, it’s a big place. They feed them well there at the priory. I wouldn’t worry about him. He was with his friend, anyway.”

  “His friend?”

  “Aye, Brother Anselm, who gave me some help for my sore foot.”

  I glanced down at his foot. His left foot was swollen and wrapped up in a thick bandage; I hadn’t noticed.

  “I’m sorry. That looks painful.”

  “Had a problem with it for years,” Wilecok said. “No matter. But them monks are very clever with that sort of thing.”

  “He was an older man, I suppose, Brother Anselm...”

  I spoke this as if to myself, hardly expecting him to contradict me.

  “Nay, a handsome fellow, about ten years older than your friend Stephen. They seemed very close. That’s why I wouldn’t worry about your friend.”

  His beady eyes were knowing. I tried not to show my shock. “Oh.”