by Toni Sands
‘I can’t see myself getting the better of one of you lot,’ said Gavin. ‘Who will I be competing against?’
‘Not me, love. I’m a fixture. Not Tiernan. Obviously. Saladin’s still away on some kind of mission. So, that leaves Darien – the one with the eyelashes to die for – and Braden, who’s such a lad – he hasn’t been with us for long. Then there’s Tev. Lovely Tev – he’s got the hots for a little blonde piece in Amara’s clutch of spicy girls. Bet he told you last night? Yeah? Thought so. Best of three and three opponents, then. Go for it. I bet you can do it!’
Gavin chugged back half a beaker of light ale. Best of three – that didn’t sound too bad. And yes, he liked Tev. Wouldn’t want to upset him. So, if he had to go through this test, in order to escape Arcandos’ sticky clutches and return to his own world, he needed to out-joust Darien and Braden. Darien was the suave, clever one with the big ego and the tight trews. Braden the lad had to be waking up to the hangover of all hangovers. Hadn’t he gone off with not just one, but two of the dancers last night? It was kind of like a piece of flatbread. Sorted.
A few minutes before noon, Gavin mounted his trusty steed, patted Sarum’s neck, and whispered in his ear. ‘We can do this, boy. You and I can become part of Tiernan’s dream team. We really can. Only then can we cross that Crystal Cleft again and return to reality. Trust me.’
A flick of the reins. A touch of the spur. The elegant, ebony stallion pawed like a pro, tossed his mane like a tart, then went into trot mode. Gavin had an awful suspicion his horse was merely following Lady Amara’s mare, Topaz, ridden this morning by Zebal, who’d be performing a demo joust against Tiernan, who was astride Cloudburst, a beautiful grey stallion, with flanks like silk.
The jousting field adjoined the castle grounds. A candy-stripe canopy near the gated entrance sheltered crimson velvet stools arranged on crimson carpet. A table held refreshments. Silver dishes of nuts, grapes, and marzipan sweetmeats. Jugs of wine. Apples and chunks of creamy cheese. From a stand hung a gilded cage with a dozen tiny, rainbow-hued birds inside.
Lady Amara and her maids of honour were already seated, ready to watch the fun, their gowns blurring into a rainbow froth of muslin, satin, and silk. Some of them refrained from glancing at the knights. Some couldn’t resist sneaking a longing glance at their favourite. An underbelly of miscellaneous tenants, servants and anyone fancying a freebie day out made up the rest of the onlookers. Gavin knew he was on first, facing up to Tev, who wore his tail of hair bundled up inside his helmet. But first came the parade.
Each knight participating, even Sir Tiernan, needed to ride around the course. Needed to pass in front of Lady Amara’s box. A trio of musicians provided background music while this took place. Some of the horses jibbed at this. Gavin, alert to damage control, leant forward, whispered in Sarum’s ear, and patted his aristocratic head. No problem. He was probably leching after Topaz’s swinging rump ahead of the stallion.
Tiernan led the procession, flanked by two standard-bearers running alongside the First Knight’s horse. The crowd cheered, rising to their feet. Zebal followed. Everyone loved Zebal and he didn’t disappoint them, milking the crowd, egging them on to cheer. Then came Braden, Cordale, Darien, and Tev. No particular order of seniority after the first two. Each knight seemed to have his own followers. Each knight received a favour or two from the ladies accompanying Amara.
When Gavin’s turn came, he steeled himself, knowing he was the incomer with no proven track record and someone who’d be lucky to merit even a trickle of applause. Sarum trotted forward like a good boy. Gavin raised a hand and waved to the crowd, who rewarded him with a burst of applause and shouts of “Come on, Gav.” He nodded to each lady in turn as his stallion took him past the row of fragrant maidens. To his astonishment, he’d collected two favours by the time Sarum drew opposite Lady Amara.
His horse stopped suddenly. So suddenly, he almost lurched forward. Sarum was always such a tart in public. But my lady inclined her head. Leant forward. Whispered something to the stallion. He pawed the ground then walked on, allowing his master to breathe again. Gavin bowed his head to the First Lady as he rode by, then, to his enormous surprise, he collected another favour. But this one came from the hand of the little blonde, the object of Tev’s affections. Not good. Especially as the look she gave the newest knight told him the scarf she’d handed him was definitely not intended as a friendly good luck token.
He cantered off to join the rest of the entrants in one corner of the paddock and busied himself, tucking the scarf, a scented handkerchief, and a sprig of heather tied with pink ribbon, inside his tunic.
Zebal held his hand up. ‘Pay attention, gentlemen. Your liege lord and I will carry out three demonstration runs up and down the jousting area. Watch our pace and positioning. We’ll clash lances but not strive to unseat one another.’ He bowed towards the First Knight. ‘I hope not, anyway.’
Once cheers and comments had faded away, Zebal continued, ‘As you know, this isn’t a full-blown, formal tournament but I hope I don’t need to remind you to remember the knights’ code of chivalry. You are, each and every one of you, a time-served knight.’ He gestured towards Gavin. ‘Our new friend, Sir Gavin, will abide by the same rules. Bravery and skill today. No aggression. Good luck, my lords.’
When the newest contestant thundered down the turf, clutching the lance provided for him, he wasn’t prepared for the powerful thrust from Tev. His own lance leapt from his hand, landing yards away. The disappointed “ooh” from the small but enthusiastic crowd echoed in his ears as he dismounted, left Sarum to a lad who’d come forward to take the reins, and ran, head down, to retrieve the weapon. So much for a light-hearted friendly. This animosity had to be down to that third favour.
Approaching from the other end for the second joust, Gavin gritted his teeth, anticipating Tev would pull the same trick again, and urged his stallion on so he caught his opponent on the hop. This time, the lance flipping upwards to land with a thud on the turf was Tev’s.
The crowd roared their approval. One joust apiece and a decider to come. At the signal, Gavin set off, gripping his weapon, determined to best his opponent, his determination such that he wasn’t the least bit surprised when he succeeded in doing the same thing again.
When his next turn rolled around, some of the crowd began chanting his name as well as his opponent’s. But, although Gavin didn’t approach with the same ferocity, the first two jousts saw the new knight the winner. Braden clearly wasn’t up for such activity.
Darien, however, adhering strictly to the rules, took the first joust. Gavin took the second, then lost the third to the more experienced rider.
‘Not bad, love, not bad at all,’ drawled Zebal when Gavin left the jousting area and dismounted. ‘Do you want me to have a quiet word with Sir Tev?’
‘No. No, thanks, I think he’s had enough today. I’ve honestly not tried to ingratiate myself with the lady he admires. The whole business is very unfortunate. I can do without this hassle.’
‘Women are so not worth the trouble,’ sighed Zebal, rolling his eyes. ‘What were you to do? You could hardly hand the favour back to her. In a more formal tournament, things would have proceeded more slowly.’
‘If I hadn’t petitioned a favour from her, the lady would never have presented me with one? That’s the way it is in my world too.’
‘Etiquette exists for a purpose. Now, do try and make up with Tev. But choose your words carefully. Don’t insist you wouldn’t fancy the little blonde in a fit. Use some tact. Explain you admire his good taste in women but tell him you haven’t been making eyes at her and have no intention of doing so. Otherwise he’ll wonder why not. No man likes to think no one else envies him his choice of fantasy crumpet.’
‘I understand. I’ll do my best.’
Zebal nodded. ‘I wish I could allow you to use the knights’ bathhouse today. It’s a privilege that belongs only to a tried and tested Jupiter Knight. But you’ve made progress al
ready. Tev was out of order. Tiernan will know that. He’s not stupid.’
Gavin bowed. ‘Thank you, Zebal. I’ll try and make it up with Tev. I like him and I really don’t want to stamp on his dreams. After all, I’m on borrowed time here, aren’t I? I’m the loose cannon?’
Zebal raised his eyebrows. ‘I know Sir Tiernan’s father arrived in the same way as you did. He grew to like it and look what happened to him. Success story or what? Surely you don’t have to go back, if you don’t want to. Sibilla will tire of moving you round like a chess piece and leave you to your own devices.’
‘That could take an age.’ Gavin puffed air through his mouth. ‘I can’t handle it! Freedom of choice is what I yearn for. Being manipulated by an enchantress on an ego trip isn’t for me. I’ll bust my guts trying to distinguish myself and earn the right to be called a Jupiter Knight, but ultimately I need to find my way back through the Crystal Cleft. Back to my own world.’ He didn’t dare mention his distress at discovering the woman who’d set his emotions spinning had proved to be well out of bounds. She too was using him, but such were his feelings towards her, he knew she’d prove impossible for him to resist. If only she were to beckon.
Chapter Twelve
‘You understand it’s impossible for me to offer you a permanent place.’ Tiernan paced up and down a bit, then stood in front of the grand fireplace in the big hall.
‘I do, my lord. But as a temporary Jupiter Knight, I know I can prove I deserve to serve you. Help you in every way I possibly can.’
‘We need to win the tournament next week. That is major. And Saladin, arguably our star jouster, won’t be back in time. Unless a miracle happens.’
Gavin bowed his head. ‘I’ll practise all I can. I’d give anything to be Saladin’s first cover.’
‘Thank you. You proved your worth to me today and I’ll explain my decision to the other boys in a while. You may, of course, use the knights’ bathhouse once the news is out. And petition which of the First Ladies’ entourage catches your eye, to allow you the honour of carrying a favour.’
Gavin nodded. ‘Maybe not the little blonde one.’
Tiernan shot him a sharp look. ‘She doesn’t appeal? Or you’re backing down?’
‘I have a girl in my own world, my lord.’ He paused. ‘Also, I don’t want to cause any rift in the knighthood.’
‘Faithful type, ay? Good man. I like your thinking, and I’ll have a word with my wife. She can pass the word on. I’ll also tell her I have no objection to your requesting a favour from any ladies, married or unattached, among the First Lady’s entourage. Including my dear wife.’ He gave the younger knight an affectionate smile.
‘You do me a great honour, my lord.’ Gavin bowed again, desperate not to lock gazes with his new liege lord.
‘Make sure Tev knows your heart belongs to someone other than Gerda, or whatever Miss Bright Eyes is called. I lose track of those girls, especially the blondes – the turnover’s so high.’
‘I can imagine. Is there anything in particular I can do for you today, my lord?’
‘There is, as it happens. Sir Zebal usually accompanies my wife on her afternoon ride, but I need his help with paperwork today. Lady Amara insists she’s happy to go out alone, but that nasty incident you prevented from happening convinces me my wife, or indeed any of her ladies, should never ride without a suitable escort.’
Gavin’s blood started rushing to inappropriate places. He straightened his spine. ‘I shall guard the First Lady with my life,’ he said.
‘According to the sweet virgin who’s the maid of honour in question, you kicked the shit out of those oafs.’ Tiernan cleared his throat. ‘Well, the First Lady didn’t put it quite like that, but I got the picture. This is also a good opportunity for you to acquaint yourself with the territory, my boy. Estate boundaries and so on.’
‘Of course. I’ll pay close attention.’
‘My wife enjoys a good workout. Now, I must get on. Give Zebal a shout for me, would you? Go and find some lunch. Afterwards, someone will come and tell you when the horses are ready.’
Sarum trotted a little behind Lady Amara’s frisky mare.
‘Is it something I said, knight?’ The First Lady tossed the question over one shoulder. ‘Don’t skitter, you mardy bitch!’ She flicked her whip lightly, aiming at Topaz’s right flank.
Gavin sucked in air. He wished. ‘Not at all, my lady,’ he said. ‘But I know my place.’
‘Let’s gallop, knight. Over the next two fields.’
He heard the jingle of spurs. No side-saddle for Amara. She set off, thick plait of glorious hair bouncing over one shapely shoulder.
Gavin’s stallion needed no urging. Sarum followed the First Lady across the fields until she reined in her mount and he followed suit. Gavin was convinced his horse fancied the saddle off the mardy mare, but the two horses trotted meekly enough along a pathway leading through tall trees, trunks like leather, leaves fleshy and curiously scented.
‘This is my brother-in-law’s land,’ said Amara. ‘We’ll go to the waterfall. Rest the horses there. It’s idyllic.’ She shot him a mischievous look. ‘Maybe you need a rest too. You’ve had a busy morning.’
Gavin’s leggings suddenly felt too tight in the crotch. ‘Busy but satisfactory, my lady.’
‘So, you have no wish to be further – satisfied?’ Her words dripped honey.
Gavin sent up a silent prayer. She was playing with him, but if he reciprocated, it was fire the two of them would be playing with. He didn’t answer. Wasn’t sure where this was going.
‘I hear you have a delicious maiden longing for your return.’
He didn’t miss the acid tone. Nor the tiny pout shaping those delicious lips.
‘I have no wish to upset anyone’s feelings. That’s the last thing I want.’
‘Does that apply to me as well?’ Big, innocent eyes challenged him. The lady batted her lashes while he sent up a prayer to whichever god looked after knights who had a hard-on.
‘Of course it applies to you. Your ladyship’s word is my command.’ As soon as he’d spoken he realised he’d played right into her hands. But surely she wouldn’t … Not now he had a place in her husband’s entourage? Would she?
The path petered out, bringing them back to open land again. Gavin glanced at the sky, heavy and swollen, streaked with gunmetal and dark plum bruises. The first raindrops began to fall. Fat and cold. ‘How far is this waterfall you mentioned?’ He shifted in the saddle.
‘Too far with a storm brewing. I know a place where we can shelter,’ said Amara. ‘Let’s go.’
Again he followed her cracking pace. They thundered across the field, through sweet, bee-kissed clover and leggy dog daisies. Strange, orange, quivering bulrushes gave off a heady, drowsy-making smell as they soaked up the rain. The place was a bordello of sensory experiences. Gavin had never encountered anything like it before. But then why should he have when his own world differed so hugely from this outlandish one where he was stranded?
‘Over there,’ called Lady Amara, pointing with her whip. ‘We can tether the horses so they’re sheltered. Sit out the storm inside the barn.’
Innocent words. No innuendo. Maybe this wouldn’t be difficult after all. She must realise how precarious his position was. Doubtless her husband had confided in her he’d taken on an understudy Jupiter Knight.
But once they were inside, both horses secured, Amara bolted the door behind them and turned to face him. She poked the tip of her little pink tongue between her luscious lips.
‘To whom does this barn belong to?’ He gazed around him, playing for time.
‘To me,’ she said. ‘I’m the whom! I like having a little independence, knight. I enjoy having a safe house, away from the whispering and conjecturing of the household.’ Her fingers moved to her throat. Loosened the fastening of her soft emerald wool cloak. Let it fall to the ground. All the while, her eyes remained fixed on Gavin.
His lungs must have seized up wi
th sheer lust and desperation. Amara’s lips, slightly parted, seemed even redder and fuller than he remembered them. He had to close his eyes, for fear she’d see the hunger in them as he pictured that full mouth clamped around the erection fast trying to escape his pants. But the treacherous image loomed more vivid than ever behind his eyelids.
‘Gavin,’ she said. ‘I love my husband and lord. But I need you. I can be what I want with you.’ She tossed her cloak aside and began wriggling out of her gown. ‘I shall count to ten. Don’t keep a lady waiting. Especially not when she wants to play lascivious harlot rather than dutiful spouse.’
He watched her climb the ladder to the hayloft. Watched the plump curves of her rounded bum cheeks in snowy linen drawers. The riding boots she’d kept on accentuated the enticing sight, as did the awareness of what she longed for. Knowing he could give it to her made him weak with anticipation. Dissolved his bones. Tore up his reason. Stifled his conscience. He could not prevent himself. He had to have her. He could not – would not – disappoint a lady in need of succour.
Gavin ripped off his cloak. Shucked off his tunic and shirt. Climbed the ladder and arrived on the count of ten.
‘That’s better,’ she whispered, looking straight at his crotch.
Rain drummed on the timber roof. Sheet lightning flashed through narrow window slits. Thunder growled and crashed like all hell’s demons breaking loose. Gavin reached for Amara. Already her ragged breathing matched his. In the pool of silence as the storm regrouped before snarling again, Gavin crushed Amara’s soft lips beneath his. Pulled her close. Felt her pert, springy little breasts press against his bare chest. Felt the nipples, straining to be kissed. And sucked. He sensed she didn’t want gentle. She wanted possession. Fierce. Forceful. Possession so all-consuming it made time stand still.
The hunger upon him was such he thought he’d die if he couldn’t have her. He ached to be inside her. Smell her sweetness. Savour her hot cunny. To discover she craved him as powerfully as he craved her.
