Ladies and Sellswords

The evening passed with swords clanging and needles stitching and soon challenges were called out. Ben waited for his name to be called. Pair after pair were named and men fought and won and lost until few were left. Watching the contests, Ben suddenly figured out what Theo planned and laughed at himself for being in the situation.

Moments later, the latest battle completed, Theo stepped out in the middle of the ring.

"A NEW CHALLENGE HAS BEEN MADE! LORDS BUDYONNY AND KAHZEE DEMAND SATISFACTION FROM OUR UPSTART SELLSWORD, GANNON!" Theo roared.

Two against one was new. Excitement rippled through the group. Ben found his quick success had polarized the group. Half of them seemed to be rooting for him against the Old Guard. The other half wanted to see him put on his ass and quickly.

Budyonny and Kahzee, Lords in the hierarchy, already had their ladies to attend them. They were established here. They had their favors, their pre-battle rituals, and their hangers-on to support them. Ben stood alone. He walked to the women, the group surging forward slightly, trying to gain better position on each other. Ben laughed to himself. A sudden image of them jockeying for position for a wedding bouquet, getting aggressive with their elbows, popped into his head. This looked very much the same.

He walked straight toward the beautiful blonde, named Lady Kai. She straightened and gave him serious bedroom eyes paired a sly smile. Promises were made to him with that smile. But confusion covered her face as he passed by her and knelt in front of Maggie.

"You," he spoke low, looking up from his knees, just for her, "No one but you."

A flicker of a smile passed across her face and she undid the ribbon in her hair. It was red and yellow and matched her dress. Scarlet and gold were the colors of Ben's United States Marine Corps and he approved. Maggie's hands shook but she was able to affix her ribbon to his sword. Ben rose and bowed, humor dancing in his eyes. She made eye contact for perhaps the first time and he let his gaze linger. He wiggled his eyebrows at her and strode out to the the center of the impromptu battlefield.

The two older men, veteran fighters, faced him. They stood too close together. Ben would have immediately split up and attacked from both sides but they fought shoulder to shoulder. His job was easy, fending off one with his shield while attacking the other. He made quick work of one, not caring if it were Budyonny or Kahzee. He knocked the man down, 'killed' him, and spun on balls of his feet to face the other. A look of fear passed through the man's eyes. They had not expected this. The man glanced left, right, and came straight to him. With a yell, Ben pushed the attack, bull-rushing the man. The man stuck his sword straight out and closed his eyes. Ben allowed his momentum to carry him into it.

"A HIT!" Theo shouted, "A GRIEVOUS HIT! KAHZEE HAS WON THE DAY!"

Cheers and catcalls rained down on Ben who enjoyed a moment on the floor. He didn't ham it up, exactly, but he was okay playing the role of defeated bad guy. Kahzee was mobbed and celebrated and didn't look back to check on Ben.

Within minutes, the group moved to clean up the gym. A number of people offered condolences to Ben, several more gave him looks suggesting they weren't too sad to see him sprawled on the floor. Theo came walking over toward the end of the process.

"I'm probably one of two people who knows you threw that match," Theo said, "And you're the other one."

"No, no," Ben replied with his hands up in protest, "They were valiant foes and I met my untimely demise."

Theo snorted.

Ben shrugged, "I have to be a good loser too."

"Sure," Theo agreed, "but you're a good winner. You haven't been here long but I haven't seen you fail to pick the other guy up. Ron, "Lord Kahzee" that is, just walked away after you went down. It's politics, even here."

One of the women, with long black hair and an attractive red dress, rustled her way over.

"Hi, I'm Carrie," she introduced herself, hand extended.

"My lady!" Ben cried, bowing. He took her her hand in both of his and bent to kiss it. She laughed and pulled away from him, looking overly pleased.

"Oh, I'll take kisses later, sellsword, but we're unofficial now," she grinned, "And, unofficially, we're going to sing karaoke at the Wagon Wheel around the corner. Care to join us?"

"Sure," Ben said, straightening. He looked around, located Maggie, and strolled over to her.

"There's drinking and singing and carousing around the corner in fifteen minutes or so," he said to her, "I heard you can sing. I'll let you buy me a beer so you can start wooing me."

Maggie laughed, the first real smile Ben saw from her, and shook her head. She didn't really do drinking, or singing at bars, or buying strange men drinks. And she hadn't been invited, just him.

"I'm not strange," he sputtered in protest, "I risked my life ... MY LIFE ... for you! At the very least, I risked a limb or two," pause, "Well, maybe my pinkie finger? And you're my lady here, so you're invited with me. Worst-case scenario, we just happen to go to the same place they do."

Maggie couldn't disagree with that.

"Okay," was all she said.

Minutes later, Theo made one last check of the gym, flicked off the lights and locked the doors. The group herded around the corner on foot to the bar. A horrible-but-enthusiastic rendition of AC/DC's "Back in Black" thumped through the thick concrete walls of the Wagon Wheel as they walked in.

<<KARAOKE>>

The group occupied two long tables and then some. Half a dozen of the reenactors didn't quite fit at the table and found their own booths. The supportive crowd cheered every singer, no matter the talent, and they passed the evening laughing and clapping and singing. The skill at the bar ranged from cat-stuck-in-a-garbage-disposal bad to decent. The talent pool wasn't strong but the energy was up and the general population joined along with whomever wielded the microphone. Ben and Maggie were last through the doors and found a two-top tucked in the corner by the blinking pinball machine and the two dartboard lanes. Darts whizzed by their heads closer than Ben would have liked.

It turned out Maggie liked whiskey and she sipped without making faces, simply observing the environment. She glanced more often than not at Ben's handsome face, then quickly looked away like she was afraid to get caught peeking. They discussed the basics. She was single, she was a free-lance graphic artist for what she called "Mommy Blogs", and she owned a cactus she called Senior Prickles. She felt compelled to let Ben know the noise of the bar didn't bother her in the least.

Ben rehashed some of his own history over the dull roar of their surroundings, the unabashed singing and cheers and ambient noise of drunks. He included his most recent relationship with a girl named Rachel who chased her career to Oregon. They had been together for almost two years but it still didn't seem a good decision for him to follow her so far west without a job, friends, and so on. They broke up amicably and Rachel had moved on already, shacking up with a handsome bearded man who worked for the state in the Calapooya Mountains. Ben didn't tell her he thought she invented the name but he later verified their existence through Google Maps.

"I didn't want to call her out," he told Maggie, "Considering I haven't been further west than Pittsburgh."

They both glanced up at a loud hoot from the long tables of reenactors who were staring back at them. The DJ at the front was calling for Maggie and holding the mic up. She looked around, confused. He raised an eyebrow at her as her face changed and she realized what was expected of her.

"You don't have to," he was about to say but he kept quiet. Maggie decided her decision and stood and walked to the front. Ben thought it was unlikely Maggie would voluntarily put herself up in front of everyone but he didn't really know her enough to know. She climbed the steps and conferred with the DJ for a few moments. The bar quieted and even those not with the group sensed something going on. Ben felt hairs on his neck prickle and he felt anxious for Maggie.

The low, slow opening chord of Dusty Springfield opened the song and heads bobbed along with the steady beat. Maggie faced the crowd and started singing.

"Billy Ray was the preacher's son and when his daddy would visit, he'd come along ... when they gathered 'round and started talkin' ... that's when Billy would take me walkin' ...."

Holy shit, Ben thought to himself. Maggie could sing.

The bar didn't go crazy. They didn't cheer or join along. The bar watched and listened. She could have been a performer at a cozy venue. Mouths shut and no one said a word. Their eyes followed Maggie as she started moving to the music. She swayed and sang and crooned into the microphone. Ben could tell she was enjoying herself. This, now this, wasn't something he had expected.

She finished and the bar stomped their feet and shouted for another song. The DJ whisked the microphone from Maggie's hand and proclaimed it the first time he'd seen the crowd demand an encore.

Maggie picked through the songs and Theo slid into her empty seat at the table.

"Girlfriend can sing, can't she?" Theo said.

"Who knew?" Ben replied.

"She can move a bit too," Theo commented, "I won't lie; I'm jealous of that microphone."

Ben laughed. Theo wondered aloud what she'd sing next.

"I don't know but I'm excited to find out," Ben said, "That was sexy. Wow."

Theo nodded and tilted his head toward the long tables. Ben followed the gesture and glanced over. The group of women looked ... well, pissed. They were watching their hierarchy fall apart as the men among them were now falling moony-eyed in love with Maggie. They leaned forward as Maggie selected a song and turned back to the mic stand. The DJ nodded his approval and clicked on the computer in front of him.

Loud approval went up as the raunchy guitar riff of Al Green flooded out of the speakers. A buzz ran through the bar when Maggie started singing, her voice low and raspy. Even the bartenders stopped to enjoy the show.

"My friends .... feel it's their appointed duty ... they keep tryin' to tell me ... all you want to do is use me... "

Ben watched, amazed, to see Maggie transform from a shy little mouse into the spectacle on stage. She rolled her hips, swaying to the music, eyes closed, and poured tremendous heart and skill into the microphone. Several couples got up and danced, moved by the passion of her rendition. Theo held his hand out to Ben.

"Shall we?" he asked.

Ben laughed and almost pulled Theo up to the dance floor. The joke would have flown back in the day but this group probably wouldn't be amused. Instead, he just watched, impressed. Maggie was obviously enjoying herself and the crowd along with her. She finished, flushed, and dropped the mic trying to put it back in the stand. The DJ got up to help her and the bar called for more. She waved them away with her hands and stepped off the stage. Another name was called and that person yelled about having to follow THAT?!?!?

Maggie threaded her way back to the table. She shyly returned a few high-fives and smiled reluctantly at tables complimenting her. Theo stood as she approached. Ben looked up at him.

"Do you," Ben asked, "Think this changes anything in the group?"

Theo looked at the long tables of reenactors, gauging their responses. Maggie almost beamed at the positive attention she was getting and the other ladies in the group could not conceal their jealousy. The men were all smiling, seeing Maggie in a new light, and weren't picking up the shift of mood from their women. Theo looked back at Ben and shrugged.

"You figure she was set up by one of them at the start and it back-fired. So, 'yes', but I don't know how exactly. We'll find out," Theo said, not the least bit of concern in his voice.

<< YET MORE PRACTICE >>

The night at the bar continued without incident. The DJ attempted to summoned Maggie up one more time but she declined. A number of people, both reenactors and strangers alike, showed up at their table, complimenting her, eyeballing him. Ben noticed the women especially spent time puzzling out the relationship. After all Maggie came across as an average Plain Jane whereas he was, false modesty aside, probably out of her league. He laughed inwardly and enjoyed the speculation from strangers. He would have scooted his stool closer to Maggie to create a more intimate setting for the sole purpose of creating intrigue but he didn't want to overstep bounds.

Practice that week took on a different vibe. The ladies appeared more welcoming to Maggie. Ben worked on his technique, glancing up at her every so often. One of the dark-haired girls, about Maggie's age, whispered with her while they both watched Ben at work with his sword and shield.

Practice came to end without the usual one-on-one battles. Theo stood in front of the sweating men and announced the format for next week's King's Gate. Ben waited patiently, listening and having no idea what Theo was talking about. A great number of excited huzzahs went up when Theo announced the tournament in the style of Grand Melee. Eyes twinkled and grins were exchanged as the group started talking at once. Theo let them go for several minutes before corralling their attention.

"We went easy tonight so everyone can rest up. No practice next week. King's Gate opens the Friday after at noon. Camp site registration is already closed but it's an open event so you can come and go as you please in the evening. Questions, comments, concerns, you all have the email, reply back this week or you can call starting Monday next week. Queen Annabella of House Vandros will be happy to have her council respond."

Ben wasn't aware there was an email though he'd assumed there was some sort of royal family lurking in the background of all of this. Others shouted questions up to Theo. The Q&A session was brief as most of the men had obviously been preparing for this event for some time. Ben glanced over at Maggie and her group of ladies was circled around their leader, Marchioness Madeleine something-or-other. The women were likewise engaged, nodding and smiling up at her as she spoke.

Chores completed, Ben went to see Theo.

"So," Ben said, "A renaissance fair next week?"

Theo looked around quickly while shooshing Ben.

"Don't say those words, man," he nearly whispered, "These people, they take this seriously."

"What do you mean these people," Ben challenged. Theo just laughed and filled him in on the details, which weren't groundbreaking. The location was two-hours' drive west. It was a big deal within the reenactment community but Ben had never heard of the event before. Theo concurred that he shouldn't have. They liked to keep it close-knit for added realism.

"You won't have to talk with faux-accents or say "Prithee" and "fare-thee-well" or "verily," like that. But the clothes are more accurate ... and that's pretty much the only difference." Theo shrugged.

Ben walked over to Maggie who was on her way out. Yes, she was going next week. Yes, she would be happy to ride with him. And she surprised him by telling to just wear jeans and a t-shirt.

"I made something for you," she said shyly, blush creeping up her neck. Ben smiled, happy she'd taken the effort to create an outfit. He realized he had no idea how to wear it and said as much.

"I'll show you, it's pretty straight-forward," Maggie said.

"You'll be dressing me?" Ben teased.

Maggie sputtered and held her hands up in a "no, no, no" gesture before she realized he was joking. She swatted him lightly on the chest with the back of her hand and headed out the door. Ben was surprised at how excited he was now.

I must be feeding off their energy, he thought to himself.

<<NOT A RENAISSANCE FAIR>>

Ben pulled into a spot next to the tree line separating parking areas. It was mid-afternoon and stragglers were filling up the spots much closer to the entry of the park. Ben didn't know what else to call it. Iron arches curled up and people dressed in period clothing were headed in. A large structure built to look like a castle loomed off to the side, just inside the gate.

"Here," Maggie said quietly, "I made this for you."

She handed him some clothes and Ben held them up for inspection. His mind went through the military inventory system.

Pants, leather, black in color.

Boots, leather, brown in color.

Shirt, "poofy", white in color, open neck with string ties.

Vest, leather, with red and gold designs ... he approved that one's color scheme.

Hat, green, felt.

He looked at Maggie watching him, silently begging his approval.

"It looks good so if you wouldn't mind ... " he made a swirl motion with his finger. Maggie blushed and turned around. Within moments, Ben had changed and was now outfitted in period clothing. He never wore these kinds of clothes before and he wasn't big on Halloween but he'd do it again for the way Maggie's eyes lit up when she turned and saw him.

"Tis noble craftmanship!" he proclaimed with a bad accent. She smiled and stared at the ground.

"My lady!" Ben cried again after a moment and offered his arm, trying on his personality the way he did the clothes. It didn't seem to right. He felt he should be more chaotic neutral rogue than a Lawful Good Paladin or White Knight or whatever else they had. The last he played D&D was light years ago. Ben strutted forward, cocky, arrogant, playing his part. Maggie walked beside him, her box with her outfit stowed under her arm.

"I'll carry that," he said but she shook him off.

"A woman must pull her own weight," she said with more conviction than Ben would have expected.

They went under the wings of the arch and entered what still seemed suspiciously like a Renaissance Fair. Maggie took the lead, having been there once before, and she led him to where she could change. He stood outside the booths, smelling the hay on the ground and the turkey legs cooking, watching the people stream past. Many were evaluating him and his costume and many a woman smiled at him. Ben hadn't touched his usually clean-shaven face with a razor and he had three days of stubble roughing up his jawline. Sellswords wouldn't smile unless it were a saucy temptress smiling at them so Ben fixed a frown on his face and waiting, sinking back into the shade of the large oak tree off the path. He kicked a foot up on it and struck a pose, enjoying his role of unsavory character to the fullest.

Minutes later, Maggie stepped out. Ben grunted approval to himself, scandalized that she would dress this way. She wore 'ultra-conservative' at the group, as were the other women. Here, though, she fit her dress well. The short sleeves bared most of her arms, her pale soft skin flashing in the sunlight. The full-length skirt ran down to her ankles and swirled around her as she walked toward him. The tops of her breasts, yet more skin Ben really wasn't aware she had, was out and on display with the neckline scooping low down her chest. Ben wondered what might show if she bent over and vowed to drop something in the near future to find out. The dress was red, with gold designs sprawling all over it, wrapping around Maggie's torso and into outlines of dragons along the skirt. Her hair was up with two large golden pins sticking out the bun. He realized most of the women were dressed to impressed and a few other familiar faces from practice were outfitted in similar fashion. But what was a Ren Fair without cleavage?

Ben wanted to make a joke about Maggie liking gold in reference to the detail work of her dress but he feared she would take it the wrong way. Her face, as she neared him, was hopeful and fearful of his response. He closed the distance and took her wrist, pulling her into an embrace.