A Knight's Quest

Two days passed, while I gathered my team together for my Spring tour of the New Women to the West.

Jon still had to watch over his twins Pinkee and Robin, while his wife was drinking and whoring. They were ten, so they could be useful as messengers or to fetch things for the adults. They were on the payroll, but that was a pittance. Their sire was a real Page, and he was loyal to me almost to a fault. He took care of my armor and large weapons, including my sword. He also took care of my toiletries and clothes, so that I could represent the King with style and grace. He believes that his son's would make able Footmen, but they are far too young for that position, so Jon does both, with the help of his little gadabouts.

Harold was simply my Herald. In a pinch he could help in the camp kitchen, but otherwise he announced my entry to any official function. He is also an excellent spy, having a network throughout the 3 wards of Gaspe and a few in the outlying towns. Secretly he yearns to be a swordsman, and he is exceptional with an epee.

Since we had to make camp, we could travel with only eight or ten horses and one wagon. We traveled without heavy weapons or armor, since we would never be near the frontier or competing in festivals.

We were set to depart in the morning, so a party was our due.

My favorite Inn had a minstrel that I liked, so we planned to meet there after I dined with my Royal Parents.

I had a summons delivered to me by a little girl, as I entered the estate.

"Tell him he can come see me, I'll be dressing for dinner," I instructed the little girl, who looked quizzically at me, so I explained further.

"Go, tell Pitman to see me in my bedchamber child," I spelled it out. She turned and ran.

I smelled my pits and they were rank, so I dipped a rag in my basin, and applied some soap.

"Not even a full bath for your Royal Sire, Corzian?" Pitman sang out from behind me.

"I must smell too, since I didn't smell you before I heard you Pitman," I replied, swinging about to see what he was wearing to dinner.

He looked up and down my naked body and smirked.

"The ladies must tremble when their first sex is with a priced bull like you," he surmised.

Pitman was making me feel a bit self conscious. It was not a feeling that I was familiar with, .... or comfortable with.

"Duke Mortack and his cousin Duke Soritan will be joining you tonight, and underlings are not invited," Pitman bit out. Right away I knew that he would hear and see everything in that dining room. Gimpy would do that for me.

I knew that Pitman would be privy to the conversations I had with Father, so I could talk freely with him, or, as I had instructed my Horseman, we were doomed.

"So, they finally got around to me," I acknowledged to my Father's best friend.

"Yes, they have been negotiating behind the scenes, but this is their first real meeting, so it would be best if you stayed quiet, while your Father talks to these traitors," he instructed me.

They would not talk openly, but Pitman figured that my addled brain would still understand what they were talking about.

"Do they really expect to propel me into the throne, Pitman?" I couldn't really see how that would happen.

"With these far-seeing men, they look to prepare things, just in case," the wise valet reasoned. "Then, if things are prepared well, they sometimes give the situation a little push, and when the dust settles,... they have the reins to the Kingdom in their hands.

Traitors indeed!

Two maids entered the room from behind him.

"You need a haircut and a shave, Sir Corzian," the valet prompted.

"It appears that I'm going to get them both," I reasoned and both of my barbers giggled.

I did not get to fuck the ladies, but I told them about our party plans, at the Hogs Inn. They promised to bring a few other ladies that like drinking and dancing.

The Herald announced me, but Father and Princess Gowen did not need the introduction.

After my formal entry and the bows and kisses, I accepted a goblet from a servant.

The Princess looked incredible, with her large cleavage filling the room with matronly love. She is not even 30 yet. I wondered if she was with child, since she was still being bed by father practically every night, according to Pitman. Royal duties are the most strenuous!

I flinched as I realized that Pitman had snuck up on me again.

"Don't even think about your Stepmother," Pitman warned me. "She is just coming into her cycle, so your Father is the only one to bed her, three times per day for the next 5 days," Pitman explained.

Silly man! I may fantasize, but I know my limits.

Pitman disappeared behind a curtain as the Herald centered himself in the foyer for an announcement.

"The Grand Duke Mortack, Commander of Norfolk City, Guardian of the Northern frontier!" rang through the hall.

Mortack was the shorter of the two, and stout.

He was older than father, maybe 50, 52 and he probably hadn't done anything more strenuous than lifting a tankard to his lips, for quite some time.

His cousin Soritan was announced but he is built of a different metal.

He is tall enough to look me in the eye, and his broad shoulders obviously hold a lot of muscle. He might have been 40 or a bit older, with eyes of flint.

We sat in lush chairs, waiting for Mother to indicate a move to the table. There were five or six servants to fill glasses and pamper the dinner guests. A dozen more would be working in the kitchens.

I heard Princess Gowen laugh with spirit, as Mortack delivered the punchline of some funny story, but my attention was on Father talking quietly with Soritan. Neither one displayed any anger or passion as they quietly discussed the affairs of state.

"We need to put a tax on incoming goods from Catanaland," the tall Duke was quietly extolling to the Prince. "The tax money would also spur our people to buy local products, helping the blacksmiths and silversmiths, the furniture makers and the leather workers,"

I wondered how many of those artisans actually worked for these two Dukes? They would not talk treason without personal financial reasons.

"What about the trade that we would lose if Catanaland places a tax on our goods?" Father returned for his guest's consideration.

"Ah, but they don't have the infrastructure for that," he replied, while I struggled with the new word.

"They would build their own gate Sir. They would have to," Father replied.

Aha, structure was the root and the 'infra' part meant that they didn't have a means of keeping track of the incoming goods, for the tax man.

The Princess called for all to come to the table, but there were only the five of us, so we settled in quickly, with Father at one end and Mother at the other with a Duke at each of her elbows. I sat between Father and Duke Mortack, but the table was large enough for a dozen Dukes and Knights.

The first course is always pickled. Pigs feet, ears,tail, lips, duck eggs, onions, asparagus, beets and finally an assortment of pickled pickles!

No one eats more than a token bite from this course, but Mortack threw three small onions and a chunk of purple beet in his gaping maw and kept on with his story, absently pawing at the pickle selection as if it was his personal feast.

The Princess looked away.

"Mort! You are spraying your food again!" Duke Soritan declared with no respect offered.

"My apologies, but I am famished," the Duke offered to his stunned audience.

It was obvious to me which one held the power. It couldn't be the fat Oaf.

"Sir Corzian, what are your thoughts on an import tax?" Duke Soritan asked me, as an obvious distraction.

"Oh I couldn't offer any wisdom without serious consideration Sir," I began, but Soritan thought that I had finished and smiled at my ignorance.

"...But I do know that Catanaland can tax at their city gates without much trouble, since they already have soldiers and gates there." I concluded. I could see my father's touch of a smile.

"True, young Knight, but that still leaves a lot of untaxed goods throughout the lands," the Duke returned, again smiling.

"Yes sir, but all trade caravans travel through the walled cities, so they could be audited when they return, and tax would be required for goods that they sold," I suggested. I was not revealing any secrets, but I might have said too much.

"Those scoundrels will cheat their Monarch of his Tax!" Duke Mortack finally entered the fray. You could see the flecks of crackers erupt from his Noble mouth.

"Oh, the second course!" Princess Gowen gayly announced, a bit louder than usual.

It was a wonderful Ocean stew from the Crystal Islands to the far south. The carrots and peas were local, but the seafood was all brought in salted, and then desalted by the cooks. It was one of my favorites, so I was anxious to dig in, but I waited for the Princess of course.

Duke Soritan took some crackers and crumbled them into his bowl!

To me, the insult was his contamination of a wonderful soup, but I knew that it was inappropriate to touch the food before the Hosts, even more so when they are Royalty.

The Duke looked across the table at me with his flint eyes. I thought that I might have to come across the table, if he reached for his spoon before my Step Mother... but he did not.

"Let's get some wine poured early Dear, It looks like we all need it," my young, but not so foolish step mum insisted.

The wait staff was fast to the jugs!

The rest of the meal took hours, but there was little talked about except the possibility of a good harvest, and the lawlessness in the far North.

By the time the Princess brought the meal to an end, I was stuffed with the finest food from the four corners of the Kingdom and beyond.

I hadn't had more than two large glasses of wine though, wanting to keep my head if more contentious topics should come up, or I had to kill the scoundrels.

"Well Gentlemen, I must retire to my Royal Duty, and I will be needing my Prince for that!" she laughed and we all smiled, though mine was a bit forced.

"He is a lucky man," both of the Dukes said at the exact same time! We couldn't help but laugh at the timing of it.

"Sir Corzian will show you out, Sirs. Thank you for the interesting conversation, and pass on our love to your wives for us," Father dismissed them with far more dignity than they deserved.

I stood at attention as the Royal Couple left the room, seething from the insult as neither of our guests gave them the courtesy.

The main doors swung open and Pitman hustled in, finding a spot at my right elbow. He remained silent, waiting for my direction.

"Sirs, may I escort you to your horses," I offered without a smile.

These were the sort that smile as they twist a knife in your gut, and they smiled just like I could imagine.

"Thank you for the enlightening conversation young man, but I don't think you understand the bigger picture," Duke Mortack directed to me.

Perhaps he was only 'playing' a fool?

When they were safely gone, Pitman was still at my elbow, suggesting by his subservience an allegiance that I had never felt before.

"You might make a worthy King after all, young master." He shocked me with his quiet compliment.

The mystery was killing me! I swung around to have a word with my father's valet.

"How do you represent both my Father and Lady Syrma, Pitman?" I demanded.

Then the reaction from the little girl finally caught up with me.

I swung my hand up into Pitman's crotch before he could react. The void was not that of a Eunuch!!!

"It's a good thing that I'm not connected to your mother right now Sir, she would not enjoy your touch nearly as much as I do." he/she replied, and now her eyes did not look like a man!

"Do you need me to show you my tits, Coz? They are quite nice." Pitman purred.

I pulled my hand back and thought about all of the times I had stood naked in front of this valet!

"I don't suppose I'll be seeing you naked anytime soon Sir?" the lady Pitman declared. Then she leaned into me, close to my ear.

"When the Sisterhood yearns for you, I pray that I am the one that they use," Pitman whispered in my ear, then gave it a nibble.

I nearly got in a fight on the way to the Hog's Inn. I plowed into some drunk on his way out, and I had to stop myself from hitting him with a vicious blow.

I shoved him on his way, and found my friends stuck in a corner, quietly sipping on their drinks.

"Who died?" I joked, but they where so sad looking, I did a quick headcount to assure myself that I hadn't tempted the fates with such a stupid question.

"The twins are asleep in the owner's bed Coz," Jon answered my next question before I could ask it.

"And Gimpy?" I needed a full report.

"He's got the owner and her sister upstairs in a room, but I'm sure he'll be back any minute," Harold explained between slurps.

"So why are we back here in the overflow rooms? I want to be able to hear the music," I looked around at my forlorn friends.

"There's a Captain up there, and he's got a dozen friends with him, celebrating someone's promotion," Jon explained. "Gimpy wanted to take him on, but I knew that we would end up in the city jail, so we moved back here and Gimpy told us we were sheep and he grabbed the first two women he could reach!" Jon explained.

We have had this problem dozens of times, but they almost always decide to share with me, when I confront the bully. The few times they haven't shared, have been the best nights of my life! I just love a Tavern Brawl.

I moved toward the bar, and my two friends took my back.

"Might we call for the Horseman first Coz," Harold cautioned, but I kept going.

"He has to know it's coming," Jon reasoned, in reference to Gimpy.

"He'll be here after the third man hits the floor," I wagered with a shilling in my hand.

"I'll take that bet," Jon called from my left flank.

My best chance was to make friends and buy a round, but seeing the gatekeeper with the missing tooth, I knew it would not be that easy.

"Good Captain!" I cried out. "Good Captain, can I buy you and your troops a round," I asked with my best fake smile.

He took in my fine haircut first, then the chevron on my shoulder that indicated that I was at least a Squire, but that would be beneath a Captain of the King's Troops. Then I saw the florets that they were attaching to his shoulders, and realized that he was now my equal, as a Commander.

The gatekeeper took that moment to make favor with his new Commander. He whispered in his ear and the change in facial expression made it clear that the man was not going to be cooperative.

When he stood I could see why he needed big horses.

"Perhaps we could just arm wrestle?" I suggested, but he was coming towards me, and I was going to have to fight or run.

Knights don't run, unless the trumpet calls for it.

My two cohorts gave me room. They had to let me or the Commander throw the first punch, or they could be hung.

He didn't get to be an Officer by fighting fair. He had a metal ball in his hand, but instead of crushing in the side of my head, it made him so slow that I simply moved my face a bit to the right, and brought my own fist into his stomach. He tried to guard his middle but I hit him right in the elbow. He let out a scream as the elbow dislocated. It ended the fight right away.

The elbow unhinged sideways, and a dozen people gasped at the unholy sight. I looked behind me and Herold was punching his man on the floor, while Jon held his two men under his arms, grinning. The count was two! I threw the shilling to my Page just as Gimpy arrived.

"Oh tarnation! It's over," Featherby cried out, then his pants fell to the floor cause he hadn't put on his belt. The room erupted in laughter.

"Fix his elbow Gimpy. I know you can do it, it's just like a horse," I insisted, but I didn't expect that anything short of the King's surgeon would help.

"Hmm, yes of course you are right," Gimpy replied and he went to the Officer to give his aid.

The Owner trailed behind Gimpy, probably to get dressed. I gave her the drinking sign and circled my hand around over my head. She knew me well enough.

"Ladies, get these men another round!" she hollered happily.

Soon Gimpy had a poultice on the Commanders elbow and his arm was in a silk sling.

"Keep it in the sling for at least a week, and let someone gently bend and unbend your arm twice a day, every day or you will stiffen up too much," Gimpy advised him. The Commander was too drunk, but his adjutant was paying attention.

The Commander drank just as well with his other hand, so we had fun for the rest of the night. Of course he would have an ache in his elbow every winter evening for the rest of his life, but that is the fate of all fighting men that don't die early enough.

The maidens showed up from the kitchen with two other friends. So I sat one down with my new friend and told her she could eat and drink whatever she wanted if she kept my friend happy. She seemed thrilled to party with a Commander, though he was too drunk to be of use in bed.

The next morning I was exercising in the yard, when Pitman came to give me my Fathers directions.

I was shirtless of course. It seemed like she always appeared when I was more exposed.

I swung the sword in a full downward parry, then reversed over my shoulder as I swung through a low path, meant to take out the legs.

I slid on the grass and down on one knee.

In battle, time crawls, and I practice my moves with the same clarity of mind. Though each move is lightning fast, it looks slow to my mind's eye.

"You should have risen earlier, Knight," Pitman called out, breaking my concentration and my mood.

I leaned my sword against the water trough and cupped water to splash on my face and chest.

"My crew is getting things ready, and they do it better when I am not there," I informed my nosy intruder.

"We will be in the Springsted area before night, so our timing will not matter," I offered as my excuse.

"You got lucky with the Commander, Coz. He has powerful friends and they will hear about the fight," Pitman warned me.

"Then it's good that I'm going west," I responded casually.

"Yes, and about that," the valet continued, "Your mother wants me to remind you about the missing sisters. We suspect that other women are being swept up, so you should ask about that too," she clarified my mission.

"Message received Pitwoman," I teased her.

She came to me fast. So fast that I might not have been able to kill her if I had too, and that is very fast.

She took me in her arms and she pulled my face down to hers for a kiss.

"That was from Matilda," Pitman offered when she finally broke it off.

"Just find our Sisters before they fade from this world Coz," she called over her shoulder as she departed.

It didn't feel like the kiss was from a far off lover though.

I watched Pitman's ass as she walked away. It didn't sway like most women, but I still couldn't look at her the same way.

I lead the group for the first few hours, and they let me ride alone with my thoughts. The sun was directly overhead when we started out, so it would be in our eyes as we approached the camping area outside of Springsted.

"Jon!" I called out.

He put heels to his mare to come closer.

"Someone needs to go ahead, but I don't want them to take an arrow, so maybe..." I didn't want to put his sons in a dangerous position, but they would probably be safe enough, with a fast horse, and us only ten minutes behind them.

"Excellent idea Coz, they are good in the saddle and they would be very hard to catch," the Page agreed with the move, and the twins were thrilled to get out of the wagon.

Harold was another story though, as he had to tie off his horse and drive the wagon for the rest of the afternoon.