LANCED-A-LOT
By: Silenos
This story is a work of fiction and involves teenagers in sexual situations. If that offends you, don't read it. If you are underage, don't read it (like that's going to happen). This story belongs solely to the author and may not be copied or reproduced in whole or in part without permission of the author.
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LANCED-A-LOT: Chapter 10
After Lillian fled the room Lord Castlemount, mean bastard that he was, excused himself room announcing "Enjoy your wine and ale one and all, but celebration is for the young and I am afraid I must retire as well." He staggered his way out of the hall to the residences supported by his Pages. It did not go unnoticed he had a word with his steward rather loudly instructing the man to provide no more than one more jug of anything after his Lordship had left the room.
Michael stood saying "I think that is my signal, Sprite," He winked at me addressing the young squire with a smirk. "I believe Jack knows the way to his master's rooms. However, if you would be so good, as a matter of hospitality, to check in on him a bit later I would appreciate it. After all, the castle being so vast, he might get lost."
"He sleeps with Sir Idris?" Sprite seemed astonished.
"It is the new fashion, we Squires sleep at the foot of the bed so we might die before our masters. Jack will show you how it is done."
It was at that point I noticed Idris stagger to his feet, arm in arm with Gallant, making sweeping theatrical bows at the other diners and heading out of the hall. "Will you show me?" the lovely blond Sprite pierced me with his delectable eyes, reluctantly letting go of my lance which his hand had moved up to from my thigh. I released his too, as my own hand had moved up.
"Only if you check to be sure I made it to the chambers safely." I winked. The boy hiccupped a grin and bounced in excitement with a nod as I turned to go. Idris and Robin had already left the building, I followed and knew what was to come. One does not live on the streets with the most villainous of villains and not pay attention no matter how drunk.
Not sure who it would be I feigned coughing and drew my hand to my throat to guard against the blade. Perhaps it is a sixth sense, perhaps not, it could be only the instinct of stepping into a dimly lit open space where shadows can betray. Whoever it was had little idea of what they were doing I realized as the tiny point of a small blade poked me under my ribs. "Make no sound and walk towards the barn," a girls voice whispered attempting to sound husky and mean, "I will stick you like a rodent if you do."
"Do what?" I asked, deciding to have fun with this amateur villain.
"What do you mean what? I told you."
"You told me to be silent and walk to the barn, then said you would stick me if I did."
"What?" She was confused now.
"Will I keep silent and go toward the barn and get stuck, or will I not remain silent and not go toward the barn and get stuck, make up your mind."
"What are you talking about?" She was getting exasperated and pressing harder with the blade.
"Who are you?" I asked, just to confuse her more.
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Not What, Who."
"Augh!" She grunted, deciding not to get stuck I ended it by stepping back and to the side, delivering a rather solid punch to her belly with my elbow. "Oof!" was the grunt that followed her "Augh!" The blade, as it turned out was a dainty little dagger such as women use to pick out threads. The girl was no wee thing, standing just shy of my height. A robust, not fat, lass of some 16 or 17 summers. I took the knife then gripped her round her shoulders, leading her to the shadows around the side of the barn as she caught her breath. Almost more a young man in a woman's garb, but still attractive with high brows, deep brown eyes, and a high and heavy breast.
"Now, to start, what is your name?" I moved my hand to her neck where I could easily inflict pain, or snap it if need be while keeping a step behind and to the side to avoid any nasty flailing.
"Mandragora, I lay in waiting for Ladies Lillian and her sister Lady Marjorie." She whimpered, apparently thinking I was to end her there.
"And why do you choose to poke a knife in me, a mere squire?"
She stood to her full height, turning to look me directly in the eye "Because your master, if rumors be true, is to wed Lady Lillian. She must wed, but has been abused by men enough, I sought to warn you, to warn your Knight, to beware, to treat her well or you and he would feel my blade."
I sighed. "Girl, can you not say something that is not confused?"
She tried to wrestle away from me growling "I'm not a girl! I'm a woman boy!"
"How can you be a woman-boy?"
"I am not a woman-boy!" This female was not understanding how she was creating misunderstandings. I was trying not to burst out laughing. I had this delightful rodent in my pussy-cat claws and could not resist one last go at her.
"Alright, I am a man boy and you are a woman boy, but what are either?" To my surprise she gave out a great bellow of laughter.
"I give up!" she coughed. "I cannot keep up with your banter; but you must listen to me!"
Her laughter had incited mine and we were both soon rolling on the ground. I managed to splutter through guffaws "Are you truly named Mandragora? What is your real mission tonight?"
"Yes, that is my name, my father saw his fifth child was a girl again and named me for a poison."
"Well, better a poison than a plague." I responded.
"Except the name has always plagued me." \
We both roared again like fools we rocked against each other in the dark, if anyone might see us they would have thought us mad. I was not so taken with the hilarity as to not remember my life had been imperiled and while laughing rolled over on to her and pushed her own blade to her chin.
"Listen woman, or girl, laughter or not, you threatened my life tonight. What was your purpose?" I hissed, holding her firm.
She sighed saying "Well, I suppose I have botched this now. You are strangers, we do not know who you are."
Mandragora huffed for a moment before she further responded with a scowl. "Ladies Marjorie, Lillian and I have pledged ourselves to each other. Not in a girl way, but in a bedding way. Each of them will take a husband but under duress, none of us have need of men and their lances. We know our obligations, but I will not suffer to see them hurt!" That set me off again in fits of laughter, taking a moment to reply.
"You mean," I gasped, catching my breath "the three of you are sisters of Sappho, you prefer the sheath to the lance?"
"Um, I believe you are correct in the sheath thing, but what is a Sappho?" She asked timidly.
I roared in laughter again before recovering myself. People like myself are too quick to belittle those who cannot read, or if they can, have no access to anything to read. It is just as bad as blaming a simpleton for being simple. No fault is theirs, they simply have had no access to learn.
"Sappho," I explained "is simply a term for women who prefer women, and I mean carnally and emotionally, to men. Sappho was a great poet of the Greeks who lived on the isle of Lesbos."
"So why do you laugh?" asked the little badger from her den, upset at my knowledge as much as my laughter.
"Because Idris, Gallant, myself, and others are the same. We prefer our own sex, especially for sex. Your mistresses will be called upon to do no more than my Knights, a call to duty, a need to produce an heir. Indeed MY LORDS might faint away at the very sight of a cunny."
She held her breath for a moment before her eyes lit up in understanding and excitement "You mean they care for men rather than women?!"
"Yes," I responded with a giggle. "They will be most pleased to hear both sides of these weddings will be of like minds."
Mandy, as I would come to call her for (to be sure) Mandragora* is quite a mouthful between friends, "THIS is wonderful news! I must tell my loves..., er, mistresses of what you speak."
"Not so fast, I must be going, but let your lovers know of what we have spoken, but it is news only for them, and let us all meet tomorrow evening somewhere..."
"There is a pleasure garden for the women on the North wall. Just after tomorrow's feast!" She jumped excitedly, her hands palm to palm as if in prayer before she hugged me. "Oh Sir, you have made our day!"
I did not let her go, saying "That is good to hear, but be warned. The next time you put a knife to me you will be dead."
She pushed away from me smiling, "I trust there will be no cause for a next time. Until tomorrow." Then she fled, laughing. I liked this girl and hoped what she said was true. If it were, then with some honest speech, understanding and discretion, all parties could end up quite happy.
I turned and headed to the guest building, as I had come to call the place and was eager to care for my master as well as at least my own lance. No more than two paces inside the door a massive hand threw me against the wall.
"Squire," an ox of a man growled at me in a low voice. I felt his arms, they were thick with muscle. He was a giant at about 6' tall or more and as broad. Heavy set on the top, I quickly ascertained my options, noting his thin legs and big belly, hair protruded from his garments. Not knowing what he wanted I feigned helpless boy/maiden and became semi limp in his arms. "You arrived this afternoon and did not report to me. Why not? I am master at arms in this castle and it was your obligation to do so."
"Sorry Sir," I whimpered "my master's needs took precedence." I quivered in my best, most fearful, voice.
He grunted, considering in what appeared to be a rather thick head, before commanding "you will present yourself on the training field with the other squires and pages tomorrow and we will find out what mettle a runt like you has."
As much as the "runt" thing bothered me I intentionally stuttered back "I am sorry SIR but I must attend my Knight on the Morrow. He is to inspect his new lands."
"New lands?"
"Aye SIR, he has been granted lands as a dowry."
"Dowry?"
"I can say no more SIR or risk being flailed. My Knight is short of temper." The Ogre holding me, poorly by the shoulder instead of the throat, grinned through bad teeth. To describe this creature as odious would be to render a complement. It grunted and he let me down.
"In the afternoon then, on your return." He released me and started to walk away.
"Where SIR?" I asked.
"On the training ground outside the Castle or course, you twit!" He exclaimed loudly before stomping off.
I was familiar with oafs like him and realized I must either be bold, or fake my abilities the next day; deciding nothing. Ignorance is a curse to those who are, as well as to those who are not. I would have to decide my course, but first I had to scurry to attend Idris.
This tale came to me from a wealthy friend who found it bound in his family's extensive bookshelves. Nobody could read it as it was in a strange hand and written in a mix of the common tongue and Norman French of its day. His family has lived in the same place, if not home, for centuries and are what one might consider landed gentry. My friend brought it to me in hopes I might be able to transcribe it into the English of our own time as that sort of thing is what I do. I have updated it only in that I have made such things as measurements, expressions, and such understandable by our reckoning today. What I found in my labors was quite startling. It would be wise for the reader to remember that mores were different then, and that the perception of "age" was as well. Average life expectancy was about 33 years, and people were smaller too, the average height being about 5'7". Insofar as I can tell these pages were written after the Norman conquest, but not by much. England, Scotland, Wales and Cornwall were all very much their own kingdoms, with petty kingdoms within, and Vikings could still be something of a nuisance in some parts even though history says their terror ended in exactly 1066.