The Joust

The Knight pulled his destrier to a halt, the sounds of crying and pleas for clemency reaching his ears. He glanced back to the wagon that followed him. Ratafian was already leaping down, the thin, black-clad man reaching for the knives he wore at his belt before vanishing into the trees that lined the road. The Knight nodded, Ratafian would cut off the corner and emerge close by the melee. He urged his horse to a canter, his wagon following, to growl angrily at the sight before him.

Another Knight sat astride his horse laughing at the sight of a small figure being whipped by one of his retinue. Thin arms tried to protect an auburn-topped head whilst a leather belt connected with narrow shoulders and unprotected legs.

"Hold fast, Sir Edmund, just what did the little one do to merit such punishment?"

"Impudent whelp dared touch my stirrup, begging," Edmund replied, his lip curling with disgust at the thought of the small, dirty hand clutching at him as he had passed.

"I suggest your man rejoins your entourage and you continue to the tourney, Sir Edmund," Ratafian growled as he pressed one of his knives against the ribs of the man looming over the petit, sobbing figure.

"Sir Edmund?" the man queried, glancing nervously at the long, wicked blade.

"Enough," The Knight waved a hand dismissively. "You are not one of us and never will be," the Knight sneered. "You are too soft, Radley, and that will be your undoing. Back to the wagon," he added to his man. "Let us be away from here."

Radley remained on his horse until the other Knight had fully rounded the corner in the road, waiting for the sounds of horses and wagon to fade and then dismounted to join Ratafian. As he approached he stopped and stared. He had thought the victim to be a young maiden, but instead it was a youth. A young man with the face of an angel stood, still weeping, in Ratafian's arms. Radley stepped forward slowly, almost afraid that the stranger would sprout wings and ascend. Now that he was standing, Radley could see that the young man was small and slim, almost too slim, dressed in cream hose and a dark-red shift that seemed to accent pale skin and auburn curls.

"What are you called?" Radley asked, girding the armour around his heart. He had two good friends, he did not need further, nor did he need more heartbreak.

"My name is Sebastian," the young man said softly. He took his first good look at his unexpected rescuers. The man who still had an arm around him was a couple of inches taller than, and almost as slender as, Sebastian himself. His hair was straight, reaching his shoulders and as dark as a raven's wing, his eyes were a warm, rich brown and he had a thin wispy moustache adorning his upper lip. At the sound of the other man's voice, Sebastian turned and was stunned by the sight. The Knight was tall and broad. His face clean-shaven with a small dimple in his chin, his hair a rich chestnut and he had eyes as blue and clear as a summer's day. Sebastian was certain he had never seen a more handsome, virile man.

"Edmund said you were begging," Ratafian prompted.

"My mother still ails from a recent fever," Sebastian said, sorrow replacing shock. "I did work as a potboy, but the innkeeper wanted me to offer...more to the patrons and I said 'no' so he threw me out. I needed to buy herbs from the apothecary and when I told him about losing my job, he...he came to an arrangement with me..."

Ratafian hugged the young man tightly as wracking sobs shook the small frame.

"Find out later," Radley murmured to his man, receiving a nod. "I could use an extra pair of hands," he lied, easing the young man from Ratafian's embrace. "I am Sir Radley, this is my man-at-arms, Ratafian and driving our wagon is Ox."

Sebastian looked over to where an enormous shaven-skulled, man sat smiling.

"Is the little angel to ride with Ratafian and me?" Ox called.

Radley could not help but think Ox's description of the youth very apt. Common sense told him to send the auburn beauty to the wagon and he dimly wondered where the words he spoke came from.

"With you and Ratafian arguing over space and snoring, all the way to the Lists? I do not wish to drive him away. Sebastian can ride with me." Radley ignored the look from Ratafian and escorted the smaller man to his horse. "This is Sampson and Delilah pulls the wagon," Radley said, pointing first at his huge, bay war-horse and then at the grey mare. His eyes narrowed as he gauged whether Sebastian would even reach high enough to place a foot in the stirrup.

"You mount, Radley, I will help the little angel," Ox laughed seeing the look of dismay on the pretty young man's face. He waited for his friend to settle himself in his saddle, easing back a little to create some space in which to seat the smaller man.

Sebastian could not help the squeal that escaped as huge hands grasped firmly at his hips and lifted him as easily as if he had been just a child. As he was raised by Ox, Radley's arm snaked about his waist, settling him in front of the magnificent male. He gripped the saddle's pommel, attempting to stop his shaking, praying that it had gone unnoticed.

"Neither I nor Sampson will let you fall, little angel," Radley whispered feeling the lithe body tremble. He took the reins in one hand, coving the younger man's hands with his other, and urged his horse forward. They need not rush for one of the 'better' places in which to erect their pavilion. They preferred to keep some distance. Edmund was right to some extent. Radley was not one of 'them' and was proud that he had earned his Knighthood. He sent a silent prayer that he would earn enough from this joust to be able to return home.

****

The Lists was, in fact, the field close by to the castle on which the tournament was to take place. Sebastian helped as best he could to erect the pavilion, the tent in which they would live for the tourney's duration, with Ox and Ratafian. He was sorry to see that Radley had already disappeared to speak to the Lord holding the tourney, Sir Allard. The tournament was a Joust a Plaisance and would therefore have one overall winner determined through contests. However, Sebastian was aware that they were, as yet, days away. The morrow was the last day for all the Knights competing to assemble. Then there was to be the Vespers Tourney, for the younger Knights and their squires to demonstrate their skills. Then there was the Opening Day Procession, then the display of helms and then the selection of the 'Chevalier d'honneur'. It would therefore be several days before Radley actually began to joust.

"Come with me, little angel," Ratafian's softly spoken words shook Sebastian from his reverie. He trotted meekly behind the older man as they wandered into the woods. "I know this place," Ratafian threw over his shoulder. "There is a river down here." Ratafian took Sebastian to where the water bubbled loudly over some rocks and they sat in silence for several minutes, the older man clearly ensuring no one had followed. "Now tell me about this apothecary and innkeeper. You can trust me, Sebastian. Naught you say will shock me or cause me to abandon you. I swear it."

Ratafian listened in growing anger as he heard that the innkeeper had wanted Sebastian to offer his body to 'selected clients'. How the 'arrangement' with the apothecary was for the young man to pose naked in return for the herbs Sebastian needed for his mother and yet seemed not to have helped in strengthening her. He was not, however, surprised to find that it was not ladies that turned Sebastian's head.

"I have been so careful, Ratafian," Sebastian whispered. "Yet these men, could they see something of me I thought hidden?"

"No, little angel," Ratafian sighed. "These are just evil men trying to take advantage of one who is vulnerable and beautiful. Have no fear amongst us, Sebastian. We are aware of such feelings and they are more common than you might think. You are safe, little angel. Now, I have some experience with herb lore. Let us tell Ox where we are going and visit your mother."

****

Sebastian's home was a small cottage on the outskirts of the town and Ratafian admired its neat and clean appearance. There were many examples of fine needlecraft, the profession of Sebastian's mother, which added to the homely feel. He could see not a speck of dust as he wandered to check the contents of the pantry. He was not surprised to see it almost empty. It would explain Sebastian's thinness and the desperation of the young man. He turned at Sebastian's cough.

"My mother will see you, Ratafian," Sebastian said. "Please do not let her know we are so poorly off," he begged. "She still sews from her bed and I do not want her taxing herself."

"It will all be well soon, little angel. I promise," the older man vowed.

Ratafian could see where Sebastian had inherited his looks. His mother's red hair was restrained in a long plait. A dusting of freckles adorned both, too-pale cheeks, but where the youth's eyes were blue, the lady's were hazel. He sketched an elaborate bow, seeking to put both mother and son more at ease.

"Master Ratafian, you are welcome. Sebastian says he is working with your Knight and you have some experience with herbs that might help my recovery," the lady said, her voice quiet and well-modulated.

"Indeed, Mistress Fitzroy," Ratafian smiled. He glanced at the unfinished cup of tea at the lady's side. "May I?" he asked. At the nod, he sniffed at the liquid and frowned. Unseen by Sebastian, but not his mother, he dipped his finger in the remnants and tasted it. His frown deepened.

"Sebastian, please fetch me some water."

Ratafian turned surprised eyes on the woman in the bed as the young man hurried to do as his mother had bidden.

"I hear him cry in his room," she said as he left. "I know something is wrong. Master Ratafian, please tell me."

"This tea will not aid your recovery, Mistress. The apothecary has...taken advantage of Sebastian, but I assure you that will cease." He glanced at the hand that grasped desperately at his own.

"Has he been...hurt?" the red-head asked, sagging with relief at the shake of Ratafian's head. She met his gaze levelly. "My instincts are good. Take care of him, Ratafian, I implore you."

"Do not worry, Mistress, you will soon be well and I swear that I shall take care of Sebastian as if he were my own son."

"I believe you. Please, call me Miriam. I would like to think of you as a friend."

Despite her pallor, the smile, so like Sebastian's, gave Ratafian insight to the beauty the lady truly was.

"Thank you, Miriam," the dark man smiled.

****

Firstly, Ratafian took Sebastian into the town to buy food to stock up his larder. He insisted that Sebastian accept it without argument for the sake of the recovery of his mother which effectively quelled any further demur from the young man. Returning to the house, the men quickly had a wholesome stew bubbling in the hearth and then Ratafian wanted to visit the apothecary.

Sebastian was not permitted to go into the back room with the two men. However, the obsequious, odious apothecary was a different man when they came out. His face was as pale as chalk and his eyes wide and frightened. Sebastian glanced at Ratafian. The warm, brown orbs he associated with the thin man were like chips of obsidian and the younger man prayed that look was never directed at him. Ratafian carried a bag of herbs which he assured Sebastian would be much better in aiding his mother in regaining her strength.

Returning home, Sebastian was delighted when his mother claimed to feel well enough to leave her bed to eat with them downstairs. At Ratafian's insistence, he and the dark man had eaten sparsely, but the young man was overjoyed to see Miriam eat well. He smiled happily at Ratafian and Miriam after the meal was concluded as he scurried to his room to collect a change of clothes and a cloak for staying out at the Lists with the Knights and their squires.

"I will not tell him the tea was useless," Ratafian promised Miriam. "That will remain our secret."

"You have a good heart, Ratafian. I am happy to entrust Sebastian into your care, although I will miss his presence here."

"I am ready," Sebastian said, returning downstairs. He hugged and kissed Miriam. "I shall miss you, Mama," he whispered. This was going to be his first time away from his home.

"And I you. But I know Ratafian will take care of you." She escorted them to her door. "Fare well, Sebastian." She gave her son one final kiss and then turned to the dark-clad man. "Fare well, Ratafian," she murmured.

"We will come back as often as we are able, Miriam," Ratafian vowed. He blinked at the slim woman as she extended her hand to him. He clasped it gently and raised it to his lips.

"I look forward to seeing you both," she smiled.

****

Ratafian's step was jaunty as he and Sebastian returned to their pavilion. It was already getting dark and torches were lit, eating and music still ongoing at the Lists. Ratafian insisted Sebastian snag some of the roasted meat available and they sat and ate as they listened to the musicians.

"It has been a long day," the older man yawned, a busy day and a full belly making him drowsy. "Radley and Ox will want to sleep. They must have already retired."

Sebastian duly followed to their pavilion, a bright, red tent set somewhat aside from the others.

"About time," Ox groused from where he sat on a pallet on the floor, his smile belying his words. "Radley, where is the little angel to sleep?"

"So long as you do not mind sharing, Sebastian, you can sleep with me," the Knight replied.

Sebastian's mouth was suddenly dry. The older man had stripped off his tunic to just wear hose and shift. At the 'v' of the shift's neck, he could see dark hair. Shakily he removed his own outer jacket, leaving him similarly attired. He lay down on the pallet, his body almost rigid, praying he would not embarrass himself. It was one thing for Ratafian to say these men would understand, but he was not sure how they would react if his body betrayed his attraction to the handsome Knight. Despite his fears, however, the strain of the recent events and eating heartily quickly had him deeply asleep.

Radley avariciously eyed the young man's shift, a part of him that he refused to heed, wishing he could touch the skin the clothing hid. He turned away from the auburn beauty, not wanting his treacherous body to frighten the youth away. He was already half-hard and all Sebastian had done was lie next to him. However, when Sebastian whimpered softly, caught in the embrace of a bad dream, the older man quickly gathered the slumbering form to his chest. He smiled tenderly as Sebastian instantly settled, nestling close to lay his head on Radley's shoulder. The Knight gave a mental shrug. He was simply tending to a friend. That was all.

****

"Ratafian, might I have a word with you?" Sebastian asked. "At the river?"

The older man knew to simply sit and wait for Sebastian to speak as they took their places where the river was at its loudest.

"Have I offended Sir Radley in some way?" Sebastian finally asked. "I wake in his arms, although I have no memory of moving and, although he still lets me share the pallet, he seems to avoid me for the rest of the day. I know you said I was, um, safe with you all, but with Sir Radley, I do not understand what is happening."

"In what way, little angel?" Ratafian asked. He was well aware of the 'condition' both men awoke in each morning, the way Radley dealt with it and how he was purposely avoiding spending time alone with the auburn beauty. He was beginning to get more than a little irritated with his stubborn friend, but would not act until certain of Sebastian's feelings.

It had been five days since the young man had come into their lives. He knew Sebastian and Radley gazed longingly at each other when they thought themselves unobserved. The youth's hesitancy was understandable and betrayal and loss weighed on Radley's heart. However, Ratafian was now of the opinion that Radley needed to begin behaving more honourably towards Sebastian. To either tell him there was nothing between them, which was a lie, or to speak honestly from his heart.

"I feel my heart race and my breathing quicken when he is near. My stomach seems to flutter. And I find," he stopped, blushing crimson. "I find that my manhood behaves most inappropriately when we are close." Sebastian dropped his head. His cheeks were burning with embarrassment even though he was certain he could trust Ratafian.

"What do you feel, little one?"

"I feel as though my heart could fly when he smiles at me and it feels crushed when he is distant. I dream of him holding me, kissing me, sometimes I feel as though I ache for just a word from him. There are times I awake in his arms and am so certain he will kiss me, yet he does not. Am I being foolish? Would a man of Radley's standing have any interest in one such as me?"

"Radley was born a farmer's son. The first time we went to the Holy Land to fight he saved some trapped Knights during a skirmish with no thought of his own safety. As fate would have it, one of those he saved was a favourite of the King and Radley was rewarded for his bravery and selflessness. That is how he became knighted. Radley has suffered betrayal and loss and has armoured his heart against love, saying friendship is enough. But as much as Ox and I love him and will always be there for him, the one companionship I am certain he longs for, we cannot provide." He stopped and gave Sebastian a sad smile.

"Furthermore, whilst on our last campaign, some of the hereditary Knights, who think Radley an upstart, enticed his brother Matthew into card playing. There is a large debt outstanding, mostly to Sir Edmund. That is why Radley must win the joust. If he loses here, he will need to take part in another and pray he has enough money to pay a further instalment to Edmund to stave him off. Do you feel comfortable to massage Radley on your own this afternoon?" he suddenly asked.

"I...I think so," Sebastian said hesitantly, the question taking him by surprise. The thought of touching the older man, with no chaperone, had his wilful manhood instantly behaving badly.

"Then I will speak to Radley and you and he will talk later. Be brave, little one," Ratafian added, drawing the younger man into a hug. "Radley is a good man. I am sure your feelings are returned."

****

In the same way as the two previous days, Radley threw off his shift to lie and await his massage. This time he knew Sebastian would come alone and it had his libido almost standing to attention. With a grunt he adjusted his manhood, willing it into acquiescence. Almost.

"Are you ready, my Lord?" Sebastian's voice floated over on a cool breeze as the young man entered the tent.

"I look forward to it, little angel," Radley replied.

Without the distraction of Ratafian's voice advising how to rub the stiffness out of his muscles, Radley slipped into a dream-like state as gentle hands rubbed and soothed. He began to remember the times with another, where he would be massaged before their bodies were shared more intimately. His hips began to grind into the pallet as his dreams became more vivid, moving in time to the soft hands caressing his skin. He groaned as he pressed harder, the ache in his groin becoming more demanding.

"Are you well, my Lord?" A voice reached through his sensual haze.

"Aye, Stephen," Radley husked. A soft sound of distress reached his ears just seconds before cold air hit his skin. With a groan, Radley scrambled to his feet. As he reached the pavilion's flaps, Ratafian was already there, his face angry.

"What did you do?" he growled.

"I forgot myself. I called him 'Stephen'. I did not mean to hurt him."