A Knight's Tale: Kenilworth

by Gabriella West

  “Tell me you love me,” he whispered against my mouth.

  “I love you more than anyone has ever loved another, Stephen.”

  I hadn’t known that lovemaking like this was possible. We fit beautifully, our breaths hot and shuddering against each other. When he came, he splattered on my belly. I came right after, with a gush that made me feel like I had filled him with liquid fire.

  We rested on the blanket after cleaning with a cloth I had remembered to bring. My body was heavy on top of his. I asked him if I should move and he said no. He said that he felt like every part of his body was tingling, and asked if I felt the same way.

  I said I did.

  The forest was full of rustles and birdsong. I watched his face while he slept for a little. I had been less hurt than I expected at the tale of his Italian lover. He had told it in an artful way, and I could not deny that he was artful sometimes, but I suspected this youth had been the only one.

  And I was so utterly relieved to hear that Simon and I would not be together again in England, and not for a long time. Perhaps never, I thought. I was too experienced in the ways of the world even then to vow that I would never be with Simon again. I truly didn’t want to, at that moment, but I had the feeling that any vow I made on that score would be utterly futile.

  I began to silently don my clothes, as the air had begun to get chill. I packed up our picnic, then covered Stephen with the extra blanket. A few minutes later he awoke and looked up at me, tossing the blanket aside.

  “I’ll move into your chamber tonight. If you’ll have me.”

  A delighted grin spread across my face. “I’ll have you.”

  He moved onto his belly, showing me his plump, enticing buttocks. “We haven’t made love this way yet. I think it’ll be ideal for the bed.”

  “Are you trying to seduce me, Stephen?” I knelt, stroking him gently between the legs. His pink hole gaped invitingly.

  “Unbutton, Will,” he moaned. “Give me a preview of tonight.”

  I unbuttoned my breeches and my cock sprang forth. I spat on my hand. “This will be quick. I won’t last.”

  There followed a few minutes of desperate, rough passion. He groaned with joy, begging for my hard cock.

  I only managed a few minutes before I sprawled down on top of him.

  “Are you insatiable, Stephen?” I asked in wonder.

  “With you, I’m finding that I am.” He turned over, guiding his swollen cock into my mouth. “Suck me, since I didn’t finish. That’s it. There. Oh...”

  My mouth was soon filled with his salty fluid.

  “I’m glad you are willing to suck me,” he said happily.

  Lying against his taut belly, I murmured, “Always.”

  His hand stroked my hair. “That was awfully bold, to tempt you like that. I shouldn’t have. But you forgive me?”

  “I do. You gave me quite a tutorial today, Master Stephen.”

  “Hopefully, Wilecok won’t be there when we get back. He’ll give us a knowing wink.”

  “Or Gobithest. Christ, I’m utterly wiped out.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You must be so sore.”

  “Hmm. I think the trip from Oxford to Odiham was worse than this,” he joked. “Sixty miles, and I hadn’t been on a horse for years...”

  We crept into the dark castle like exhausted thieves, moving upstairs towards my chamber in stocking feet. Only Christiana saw us, holding a lantern in her hand. When she saw our guilty expressions, she smiled, handing us another lantern.

  “Out late, boys? You missed supper. Are you all right for food?”

  “We had plenty,” I whispered. It wasn’t really true, except of sensual pleasures, but I was walking on air at that point. Everything had taken on a dreamlike aspect.

  As I held Stephen snuggled naked against me that night in the big, covered bed, I imagined a future where we had months, even years, of peaceful bliss together at Odiham. After all, I thought, it was our place now.

  In the event, though, our honeymoon was brief. Our peace was to be shattered at the end of the very next month.

  Chapter 19

  1265

  Wilecok staggered into the hall at Odiham at the end of May to practically collapse at Lady Eleanor’s feet. Earl Simon had sent him, told him to come at top speed, he said. We all sat staring.

  Turned out the Lord Edward had taken the opportunity to escape from Hereford. It was a well-hatched plot, aided by Roger Mortimer, who’d lain in wait with his knights to rescue the prince once he had outraced his captors.

  “The Earl sent a message to young Simon as well,” Wilecok said hoarsely. “He should be here any time to fetch you.” He fell into a chair, moaning. Young Eleanor giggled slightly as she stared at him.

  “Get the man a drink,” Lady Eleanor demanded, standing upright and staring at a scrap of paper that Wilecok had handed her. “We must head directly for Portchester when Simon comes, and then Dover Castle. We’ll have to travel by night, too,” she added. “I’m afraid my husband is right about this. Edward is very angry, and I don’t trust the Mortimers. They’d love to put me under armed guard. Or worse.”

  Stephen and I glanced at each other. I had never seen Lady Eleanor in commanding mode before. He had, of course.

  He nodded slightly at me, and we melted away when Lady Eleanor told the surrounding group of people to go pack.

  It wasn’t hard to pack up. I had little. I stood staring by the window, my sword belt on. It was more than five years since I came to Kenilworth, it suddenly occurred to me.

  “I’ve seen our ride to Portchester,” Stephen whispered at my side.

  “When did you see it?”

  “Just now. Not much help, am I? But you ride with Simon, the way I saw it.”

  “I’ve never done a night ride,” I whispered. My mind was whirling.

  “We’ll hear Simon arrive soon. He’ll bring a lot of knights with him. He’ll take this very seriously.”

  “It will be all right, you say?” I asked.

  He moved his lips close to mine. “Yes. Will you make love to me here one more time?” He started to unbuckle my sword belt and then I took over, desperate to lie with him. We both undressed quickly, not looking at each other.

  The door to the chamber was locked, the bed hangings down. It still seemed wrong, but I pushed that thought away. He was naked, eager, handing me the vial and positioning himself for my taking, his buttocks rubbing provocatively against my crotch.

  It could have been a quick and mechanical rutting, with my thoughts elsewhere, but instead it was slow and passionate as I took him on all fours, his ragged cries letting me know that I had found the rhythm he liked best.

  “Will,” he murmured against me as we lay clasped together. “I hope you won’t ever get tired of me, because I... I never will of you.”

  “Never,” I told him. We were starting to hear the whinnying of horses and the clopping of hooves outside.

  “It will take them a while to get ready, don’t worry,” he murmured.

  “Do we get attacked on the way?” I could not help my mind going to this, thinking about the Countess and her young daughter.

  “This will be a test of my powers,” Stephen said seriously. “I don’t think you need to worry. There will be no attack.”

  He had begun to clean me up, but as I lay watching him, his face relaxed and happy, I began to stiffen under his hands.

  “Sorry...” I began.

  “I think I need to take care of this problem for you. May I?”

  I nodded. He clamped a hand down on my groaning mouth as he slowly lowered himself down on my swollen cock. “I’ll make it fast, Will.”

  He pumped on top of me; I watched in fascination as his entire chest and neck flushed, shining with perspiration. Our intimacies had become breathtakingly dirty and at the same time, so intense that I could not speak sometimes.

  We just lay there afterwards, staring at each other, our breath gradually ret
urning to normal.

  “Thank you, o beautiful bed,” Stephen said, staring at the canopy. “Have you seen how old the carved wood is? King John could have made love to his slutty French wife in this bed.”

  I wondered if this was the bed that Isabelle’s murdered lover had been hung upon. That made me uncomfortable. I said nothing to Stephen, but looked into his eyes and slowly he gave me a look of understanding.

  “No, I don’t think it was this one. I’d have felt it.”

  I moved my hand over his warm body possessively.

  “Yes, I belong to you,” he said.

  “I believe you. Do you still feel angry at Simon?”

  He flinched, his face tensing. “Only if he dares touch you.”

  “He wouldn’t dare. He knows I know—I don’t know how, but he can read me too. But not like you can,” I hastened to add.

  “Yes,” Stephen murmured. “And I can read him a little as well, Will. I know how much he still wants you. Just remember that, because he’s good at hiding it.”

  “You can trust me.” My throat tightened, but I really meant it.

  “I know, but it makes me nervous, staying at Portchester Castle. There will be a delay of about a week there. We won’t reach Dover till mid-month.”

  “Do we make love there?” I asked teasingly. He shook his head with a sad expression and I burst out laughing. “That bad, is it?”

  He leaned over for my kiss, usually the way we ended our lovemaking. I could never get enough of him. And usually I wouldn’t have told him that, but this time I did, because any journey made me nervous, made me think of endings.

  ***

  Stephen was right. At his request, I rode beside Simon in the gathering dusk, his mother and sister behind us on one horse, Christiana and Stephen beside them, Wilecok riding in front to scout trouble, and a group of Simon’s knights far in the rear. We expected trouble, if it came, to come from behind. All the kitchen staff got left at Odiham, as they would not be subject to attack. But aside from a few guards, the castle lay undefended.

  I supposed that I would not see Odiham again. I was thinking of my mother, thinking how it would be impossible to reach her to say farewell now, how I had blundered in that, when Simon spoke:

  “Thanks for riding with me, Will.”

  “All right,” I replied softly.

  I had been concerned by his frantic look when he arrived. He’d looked at me with no comment, but he’d surely noticed my relaxed and happy expression, so different from his.

  “Edward worries me,” he said, as if I had spoken. “I expected he would race to snatch Mother. Maybe he won’t.... but I can’t risk it. I was supposed to be with Father in the Welsh marches by now, you know.”

  “How is it going there?” I asked politely.

  “Oh, Christ... not well. I think Father has got bogged down there and cut off from everything. And that’s the thing. I don’t like to see him getting so exhausted. Henry is with him, at least.”

  We carried lanterns now. It was strange; the horses seemed to know the route, but our procession took on a ghostly, eerie tone.

  “Stay awake, everyone!” Simon commanded. I could hear rumblings of assent from the knights in the rear.

  “Are you all right, Mother?”

  “Absolutely,” Eleanor replied. Her young daughter was slumped against her. “Eventually you will have to take Eleanor, Simon. My arms will get tired.”

  “Of course,” Simon replied.

  “I can take her, my lady.” I heard Stephen’s voice in the dark, and warmth spread through me. “Although I’m not a great horseman, my arms are quite strong.”

  “Very well,” Lady Eleanor said. Her voice had a dreamy, musical tone when relaxed. Just now, in the dark, she sounded young, I thought. I felt a pang for her. What must it be like to be fleeing in the night to a castle on the most southeastern part of England, knowing that your next step would probably be France? Of course she was half-French, I thought, and had been to France many times, but it was a strange destiny for a king of England’s daughter.

  But I reminded myself that her two older sisters had married foreign princes and died young and childless before the time I was born. I suspected she had always seen herself as fortunate in comparison, blessed with six children and a loving husband, surrounded by friends and allies.

  But now here she was, fleeing her angry brother and nephew by night to barricade herself in a great castle by the sea.

  And we would be with her.

  “I won’t be able stay with you at Dover, of course,” Simon said quietly to me. “It comforts me that you will be with her, Will. She likes the routine of being a great lady and will continue it till the end.”

  I twisted uncomfortably in the saddle, afraid Lady Eleanor would hear. But we were close together and they were far enough behind that perhaps she wouldn’t.

  We were all wearing helmets too, afraid of arrows. An ambush was not an impossibility.

  “This is probably the most dangerous ride you’ve done,” Simon muttered.

  “Stephen says we will be all right.” I hoped my voice did not sound too smug.

  I heard him give a short laugh. “I wonder what he says about my father and Henry.”

  “I haven’t asked,” I said hurriedly. I shivered when he laid a gloved hand on my wrist.

  “Well, don’t ask him. I might read it in your eyes some day. Let’s leave it to fate.”

  And just like that, he had put me back in the submissive role.

  “Yes, my lord,” I said, because if his mother was listening behind us, that was what I wanted her to hear.

  ***

  In the end, we stumbled into Portchester in the early morning, just as the fishing town of Portsmouth around it was waking up.

  There was an air of almost drunken relief among our party. We had ridden forty-two miles. When I asked Stephen how he fared, he just moaned gently in response.

  The gray castle on the harbor looked reassuringly solid. With the minimum of fuss, we slid inside the gates, Simon taking charge and directing his mother to her chambers, along with Christiana. All the knights, including myself and Stephen, bedded down to rest in the hall. Once the darkened room was filled with snores, I tucked my arms around Stephen, holding him against me and listening to his heart pound.

  “You were right,” I whispered.

  “Of course.” His lips sought mine and we exchanged a breathless kiss.

  The next few days were odd, a jumbled time of not enough sleep, of everyone being too anxious to feast and relax. Provisions there, in fact, were very spartan. We were not allowed outside the castle for our own safety, so Christiana, Stephen, and I spent a lot of time together in a solar overlooking the port. The sea air was refreshing, but to me its brininess smelt of change—inevitable change. The castle felt like a prison.

  Soon reinforcements arrived. Wilecok was quite busy; some days he was there, other days not. He did bring the Countess another message from her husband on the day before we left; perhaps it was just to confirm that Dover was ready for her. We had swelled to a party of almost a hundred knights when we left, keeping a brisk thirty miles’ pace a day, Stephen and I riding together now. No one paid us any mind.

  We reached Dover Castle on the 15th of August, as Stephen had said. I looked at it, dreading going inside its walls, because I had the strangest feeling that we would eventually be besieged there. It was a massive, fortified pile on a hill atop a lonely coastline and made no bones about being a military fort, with its inner and outer walls.

  Sir John de la Haye, the constable, was an old ally of Earl Simon’s, and greeted Lady Eleanor with great courtesy. I saw Simon watching closely as they embraced and greeted each other.

  “We’ll spend the night and be off,” Simon said, turning to his men. “Some of you will have to eat and sleep in the town. There’s just no room for everyone, Sir John tells me.”

  As always, the important people ate at the high table, which in Dover was in a
cool chamber washed by the sound of the sea. To my amazement, Stephen and I were at the high table now. We’d become family.

  Christiana grinned at me. She was there too. We had talked at Portchester about Tom. He sent her messages sometimes through Wilecok. He said that fighting in the Welsh marches was all right, but eventually the King’s army, led now by Prince Edward, would strike, everyone knew it, and perhaps it would be near Kenilworth.

  Stephen and I were given a little chamber, rather high up in the castle, with only one pallet in it. It was so strange to hear the sound of the sea coming through the shutters, and to lie with him on a pallet again. Now we barely fit, but we made it work.

  Our lovemaking was more innocent again too, quick and mostly for comfort, reminiscent of our encounters at Kenilworth. But at least we were in each other’s arms again.

  “You should say goodbye to Simon in the morning,” Stephen whispered.

  “Of course I will.” I chilled at the words but was afraid to ask more.

  “I’m not saying you won’t see him again. There’s just a possibility you won’t.”

  The next morning, the castle was cleared out. The knights were gathering outside the inner walls, waiting for all the stragglers from the town to catch up. They were headed for London, apparently. I wasn’t sure why.

  Simon was fully armed, of course, holding his helmet but not yet mounted. “Who does this for you?” I said, approaching him and touching his hauberk. “Do you have a squire now?”

  “No squire, and no time for one,” he said, smiling. He seemed relieved that he had fulfilled his duty to his mother and could now be off, assured of her safety.

  “I wish you Godspeed.”

  “You’re very polite, Will.” His blue eyes assessed me. “I appreciate that.”

  “The politeness? Or my good wishes?”

  “Your good wishes,” he said quietly.

  His sister Eleanor ran by and he paused to stroke her hair. She was a lovely little girl, quieter now than before and clealy a little bewildered by everything that was happening around her. She looked up at her brother with her big, saucer-like eyes and whispered goodbye.