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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Dear Readers: If you are new to this tale, where it came from is at the bottom of each chapter.
LANCED-A-LOT: Chapter 13:
On returning to our adjoined rooms we had found a scroll with the marriage agreement on Idris' bed. Sending Michael for ink, quills and vellum, I spent the afternoon copying out the document with certain changes. I did so while sitting naked under the little window at the table in Idris' room. I had no wish to soil my one remaining tunic with ink. The Priest who had written the document was no great hand at writing, and the thing was quite vague. I cleared issues up, such as boundries and rights for what was within them, and only enhanced it a "little" knowing Castlemount could not read and would sign anything put in front of him. The others were fascinated at first as they had never seen anyone actually write before, though they soon grew bored and I shooed them away to go bathe and clean up for the evening. On their return I taught Idris how to sign his name; an impressive feat for a knight.
The one tunic I had left was the spare Thomas had given me and thankfully was not too ratty. While I might have been naked, I'd still had on my shoes (such as they were) when so summarily dismissed by the ladies. Michael was good enough to find me a belt and an eating knife. My hope was the following day the weaver woman might have something, even if without livery, I could purchase for a copper or two. Michael and I, after dressing our masters and ourselves, set off with them to the "Great Hall" for the engagement supper. We were calculatedly late so as to be not the first, nor the last, to arrive. The last being the privilege of the Lord and his ladies.
With the Knights and their retinues from Gallant's Father's Castle (which I learned was called Gallanthole, named for the fact it was located on the only high ground between two bogs and therefore was a "hole" between the bogs. Better than Boghole I suppose), the tables had been re-arranged. The table we occupied the previous night was now held by the Knights we'd met that day on the road. They were predominantly Norman's of poorer rank which was to be expected. Neither Gallant's father, nor Castlemenount held land of any real commercial or military significance. Those being the main reasons the Normans had not taken them in the first place. They were a robust lot and over the evening only a few pinched the serving maids, while the pages and kitchen boys were fondled by all in that friendly "Knights will be Knights" sort of way.
It was a different and more boisterous room from the night before with the return of the knights from Gallanthole. The Squires were pushed to the back, even behind the various locals of standing (though there were few of those). At the main table were Castlemount, Gallant, Idris, Marjorie and Lillian. Men to his right, women the left. Pages and kitchen boys and maids served all. I noted as we ate that Gallant and Castlemount were in deep conversation with much nodding and smiling. Idris and the ladies simply looked bored.
The Squires' table was another story entirely. It was almost full as we approached, being the last to join the celebration. To my joy Sprite saw us coming and stood waving us over to where he sat excitedly smiling as he shoved people over on the long bench to make room for us. In his typical form he went off as we sat "Jack! Michael! It is so good to see you both, Jack I'm sorry, I fell asleep while waiting to come to you last night, are you free tonight, will you be there too Michael, we could have so much..."
"Ahem," Michael coughed. "We are at table. Control yourself Sprite." The boy turned scarlet and sat, then smiled with bouncing brows as I followed suit and he placed his hand on my when I sat, then ran it up my thigh, my upper thigh and beneath my tunic. He certainly was an eager one.
"I'm so glad you don't wear hose" he whispered as I felt my lance rising to a joust.
Across from us sat Brood who scowled at me like a man who wants vengeance. The last thing I needed that night was trouble. Suddenly he burst out laughing in a cheery roar, then stood and reached over. "You're a right one you are. Had you going didn't I? Course you'd probably be right, I was proper angry when you surprised me and took me down. Why'd you have to do my shoulder that way?" He rubbed it, his arm in a sling.
"You had anger in your eyes and were surrounded by your mates. I could not risk you coming back if I had to take the rest on." I answered warily.
He considered for a moment before laughing again "Fair play to you, hadn't thought of that. Don't fuck with the unknown, a good motto." He jested.
"More like don't fuck with the unknown until you've fucked them." Squealed Sprite, and everyone listening burst into helpless laughter as all understood the word play. I relaxed.
"Seriously," Brood went on "I thought I had another girly squire to deal with and the master wanted me to teach you a lesson. Never seen moves like that, where'd you learn them?"
"Places you've never been." I responded, wondering if all the boys and squires always ran on and on without breaking thought. Then realized, we were all boys and that is what boys do, otherwise no one will get a word in edgewise. "I am pleased you hold no grudge, as I hold none for you."
"No problems. We're all mates, have to be stuck at this table and taking the fucking scraps without a spice. The Squires have a table to themselves when all the knights are here. Still, we get better than the Pages get, thank God those years are in the past for me, and I was mighty pleased when you downed the master." Everyone at table seemed to run on at the mouth with nobody getting a word in edgewise.
Chirped Sprite's hand now stroking my fully hard and raised lance. I was then distracted by Michael who leaned in the whisper across my face in order for Sprite to hear, while at the same time taking my left hand and placing it on his member. I was surprised to find he'd pulled his hose down and was now hard and hanging free. I glanced as surreptitiously as I could around the table, noting that only right hands were stuffing food into mouths, their lefts under the table with shoulders jerking.
"Don't worry Jack, its what we do at all meals here." Hissed Sprite, "The left-handed boys sit on the ends so everyone gets their pleasure." Indeed, I noticed the boys at the ends of table were eating with their left hands, their right shoulders jiggling.
"But if their left hands are being used for dining, and the boy on their right has the boy on his right has..." the math was confusing.
"Don't think about it Jack," chuckled Michael "just enjoy the meal."
I must pause here, reader, to say I had been in any number of sexual situations before this. I thought, even at my young age, I had experienced about everything. Yet, to be so exposed, and at the same time concealed, and have it accepted as custom, was beyond my ken. The last astounding thing, after the last course was served, Sprite Standing and dropping his eating knife proclaimed loudly "I seem to have dropped my knife I suppose I shall have to look for it." With that he sank under the table. I soon felt Sprites pretty cherry red lips sucking my manhood and clutched the table with a gasp.
"So have we!" Proclaimed every other squire before disappearing under the table. I was to learn later that the knife searchers were all manipulating the lances of those boys one over from them with their free hands as they suckled.
Lord Castlemount noticed and laughed as did the other men at their tables, while the ladies in the room looked carefully away and tittered giggles. The fat lord rose, brandishing the vellum Idris had given him. "It seems, it seems,..." He paused, obviously in his cups. "The dinner is ended. However, however! I have an announcement to make!" The room grew silent.
"I have here, in the Norman fashion, a document of the marriage promise! Not for my daughter Marjorie who is prom, promised to the elegant and wonderful Sir Gall(hiccup)ant, but for my other daughter Lillian, to Sir Idris. Who's father is a lord in the Welsh countries." He was wobbling a bit now, "I make my mark, with this quill!" He wavered around smiling in drunkenness "and agree to the marriage and sign this," he hiccupped again "A quill, who has a quill?" Idris handed him the one in front of them. Castelmount clutched it and scratched something on the vellum unrolled before him. "There you go!" He bellowed, proud of himself, "and as good as vellum is to Normans I give my hand before you Sir Idris in agreement the saxon way, before witnesses." There was a hearty cheer from all at those words.
Idris stood and shook the hand as Castlemount sat and passed out in his seat. Idris turned to the room saying loud enough for all to hear: "I accept and agree to everything on this vellum and so affix my name here." Which he did, taking time to actually write. He glanced at Castlemount and realized the rest would be on him.
"My love, Lillian, and I will be wed on this Sunday. I regret it is such a hurry, but I must bring news of this to my family, and shall hasten back to my bride in time to attend Sir Gallant's marriage to the lovely Marjorie. But for now, please rise and cheer my lovely bride to be, Lady Lillian."
She stood and blew him a ladylike kiss from down the table. There was a rising, not the least from my loins and the others at the table as we released, a great huzzah from around the room, and from the squires table where goals had been achieved and seed was being spilt faster than the huzzahs. I learned later that at Castlemount extra straw was always strewn beneath the Squire's table. Apparently what was going on underneath was a tradition, or soon to become one, and the table was prepared to accommodate it by the kitchen staff of waiting maidens and boys. A pretty little page appeared on my shoulder as I caught my breath. He bore the vellum contract for the marriage which had the marks of both Idris and Castlemount which I knew I would hide with my purse. It was worth gold and I had ideas.
"Now then, I must retire, and I am sure the ladies are weary as well. However, in celebration I am sure Sir Castlemount would agree you should stay and enjoy as long as the night is long." Concluded Idris to another round of huzzahs. The entire serving staff looked nervous at this pronouncement knowing how mean their master was.
Gallant laughed and proclaimed to them "Do not worry. I will answer to the Cup King in the morning for you."
It took some time to get out of there as Idris had to wade through congratulations. Michael and I, following our masters, bid farewell as the other squires and Michael straightened their hose. We finally managed to join up and escape the hall. The others started to head immediately back to our rooms until I stopped them. People of all sorts were milling about, either dashing to and from the kitchens, vomiting, relieving themselves, or whatever. I stopped our Knight and Michael suggesting loudly "I feel we must need take advantage of the night air. Perhaps a stroll in the Pleasure Garden would not be amiss after so much drink?" The others, staggering, suddenly realizing what I was speaking of.
"Oh..., yes..., quite" said Idris in agreement and trying to regain his sobriety. So it was we stagger-sauntered to the Pleasure Garden. No sooner had we entered the garden than Mandragora appeared from the shadows.
"Come on, we've all had too much drink." She staggered, "want more?" She held up a wineskin, as she dragged us all to her inebriated ladies.
We all stood staring at each other not knowing where to start. It was Marjorie who broke the silence pointing at my crotch and looking at Gallant. "You mean you want to put one of those things in me?"
He snorted, then smiled saying "I have no wish to, but will do what duty calls for."
"As will I. No Love?"
"Perhaps as a sister with mutual obligations. My heart belongs to Idris." So saying Gallant threw his arm around my lord's shoulders.
"And I love him." Idris managed to gurgle. He was quite in the throes of bacchus and his tunic was tenting so forcefully through his hose that it was pushing the garment out to form a great wet tent.
"Prove it!" Exclaimed Lillian.
All of us males looked at each other perplexed until Idris took Gallant in his arms and kissed him with open mouthed passion, a kiss which was returned. From then on Gallant mimicked Idris' moves, which was to take one hand and raise his lover's tunic in order to openly fondle the hard bulge he found there. I believe things may have gone farther had not Marjorie commanded "Enough!" The ladies could not believe what they were witnessing, these were not two boys playing but actual men in the throes of desire. The women's jaws hung open in silent astonishment.
It was Gallant who spoke first, withdrawing from Idris's fine firm grip. "I expect we have an understanding then."
"Yes, Gallant. I shall perform my duties, as shall you, to produce an heir. But we shall also keep quiet about our true loves." Gasped Marjorie as she recovered herself.
"As shall we," wheezed Idris looking at Lillian.
"Pray for a boy." Was all she could wheeze out.
"Come ladies," I said with a smile. "It is unseemly for you to be out at night without supervision. Let us escort you to your apartments." Everyone laughed as we led the ladies home under a beautiful full moon.. We had achieved an understanding, friendship, and perhaps respect. With time, I knew, we would become a family in our own way.
None
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.