The Jouster's Lance

by A. J. Marcus

  He strolled over to his truck and tossed the halter inside. “Thanks. I work hard to keep them in top shape,” he replied.

  “Your stunt today in the parade was most impressive,” she said as she offered him her arm.

  Knowing the ritual of escorting a woman about the fair, Dale took her arm with a pat of her delicate gloved hand. The overall fragile feeling of a woman was one of the things that stopped him from exploring them more than he had back in high school. Most women felt like they would break if he hugged them too hard. Not like the masculine men he liked in his arms.

  “I wish it had been just a stunt,” he replied as they walked toward the wooden gate that would let them back into the fairgrounds. “That fool pretzel boy tripped and jabbed Champion with his pole.”

  “Alas, I was too far back in the parade to see exactly what happened,” the lady said with a heavy sigh. “The drummers and part of the court were between us. I only know you handled your steed with remarkable skill. No one was harmed and the crowd found it most entertaining. It is more than John could’ve managed. His horse would’ve unseated him and then left without bothering to look back over its shoulder.”

  Dale paused to hold the gate open for the lady, since it was only large enough for them to pass one at a time. The general flow of the Renaissance fair washed over them as they stepped beyond the gate.

  “Did I catch some undertone of humor directed at John earlier?” he asked as he reclaimed her arm.

  She smiled and patted his hand. “You are more observant than some of the other jousters we’ve had around here. Pious John may be a good jouster, but most of the court, particularly the ladies, finds him a bit of a bore. We all humor him even as he ignores our advances. There is only one woman for him.”

  “His Marissa?” asked Dale as he let Catherine angle them up the steeper of the two lanes they approached.

  “Entirely,” she replied with a chuckle. “He speaks of his Marissa, but none of us have ever met her. Not even Chipmunk, the biggest gossip around, has been able to get more than her name. For all any of us know, she may well be the blessed Virgin Mary herself.” They paused while Catherine looked into a shop with large feathered headpieces. “My dear duke, I have yet to be in this establishment this year. Could we not enter and see what new pretties they have for our amusement?”

  Around them, patrons stared. This was part of the show, and a part Dale knew how to play well.

  “If it pleases my lady,” he said, smiling, “then let us sample their wares and see if they have anything that might come close to adding to your remarkable beauty.”

  “Diederik,” a voice called out from their right. “Demon Duke!” Dale turned and watched six college men hurry toward them. “My lords,” he said with a slight bow. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “Oh my God, it’s really you!” the tallest of the group proclaimed. “I saw on your website you were going to be here. I’ve seen all your videos. You are the best jouster on the circuit.”

  Doing his best to stop from blushing like he normally did when good-looking men made such compliments, Dale bowed again. “You fine gentlemen do me a great honor.”

  “Hey, can we get our picture with you and the lady?” one of them asked.

  He glanced at Catherine, who nodded her agreement. “With such fine specimens of manhood such as yourselves, how could we possibly decline such an offer, my lord duke,” she said before he could respond.

  Five of the men, including the tallest, who had to stand over six feet five inches, gathered around them as their friend took a series of pictures. Everyone laughed and posed. It helped push some of the negativity from earlier in the day away from Dale.

  As they broke apart, the tall one leaned over and whispered in Dale’s ear. “I’ve heard interesting things about you. I hope we run into each other again.”

  His friends were calling him to join them at the pub, so he hurried off before Dale could respond.

  Catherine looked pleased as she took his arm again. “So you already have a following here?” she asked as they climbed the two wooden steps into the shop.

  “I have a strong presence online, my lady. The fans know where to find me,” he replied.

  A woman dressed in simple servant garb walked up to them before they could continue their conversation. “Lady Catherine, so good of you to come in today. We have several new designs I made specifically with you in mind.” The shop owner took her off Dale’s arm and whirled her into the establishment.

  He looked out over the crowd that swarmed along the lane. If Cat hadn’t been with him, he’d have been tempted to make sure he and the tall man connected again. He didn’t normally trick with men much taller than his own six feet one inch height, but this one looked interesting. He hoped they would find each other again before he left Colorado.

  Chapter 8

  “So what are you going to do about Rick?” Jasmine asked.

  Austin glared at the traffic around them. As normal, I-25 was backed up into Denver from the fairgrounds. That was one of the reasons he and Jasmine stayed on site most Saturday nights and went back to their mundane lives on Sunday evening.

  “You know, I’m really not worried about Rick at this point,” he replied, wishing they’d been running just a little bit later so they could’ve missed most of the traffic.

  “I know you want him to just go away, but people like him don’t do that. You need to come up with a plan.”

  “The last message he left, he sounded so drunk he’s probably still passed out. I can put that off until tomorrow. I’m more worried about how pissed off Dale O’Toole is.”

  Jasmine sighed and stared out the passenger side of the Jeep. “I keep telling you to let it go. First, he’s a jouster. He probably wouldn’t give you the time of day. Second, you haven’t even officially met the guy. Yeah, you scared his horse. So what? It was an accident. Even if you do meet him outside of fair persona, if he doesn’t understand that, then he’s a jerk and you don’t need to be wasting your time on him.”

  Austin echoed her sigh. “I know, but he’s really hot.”

  “So you’ve told me several times the past couple of days.” Jasmine sounded pained. “Almost every gossip working the fair is talking about how hot he is, and how Lady Catherine has her sights set on him. Do you think you can compete with Lady Catherine?”

  “If he’s gay, there shouldn’t be any competition,” he objected.

  “But you don’t know one way or the other. Even Chipmunk doesn’t know, or isn’t telling.”

  Traffic began to move forward as he turned to stare at her. “You talked to Chipmunk about this?”

  The car behind them honked when he didn’t take his foot off the brake. Austin hit the gas.

  Jasmine chuckled. “Not about you, silly. I asked him a bit about the new jouster. Tried to make it sound like I might be interested in him. He said every woman in court is standing behind Lady Catherine to see what happens, and half of the men too. Right now, nobody knows what to think of the Dark Duke, other than he’s hot.”

  “Maybe we can find out more this weekend.” Austin angled the Jeep over into the fast lane for the first time since getting on the highway.

  “Or on Wednesday night,” said Jasmine.

  “What’s Wednesday night?”

  “Chipmunk’s opening week party,” she said with a big grin. “We’re invited. We can bring guests if we want, but I figure we can leave Rick and Mike at home. It’ll be more fun that way.”

  Traffic opened up, making conversation in the open-top Jeep difficult. Austin thought about seeing Dale out of costume at a party. Would Dale accept his apology? Should he just leave well enough alone?

  Austin pulled into his parking place at his apartment complex. Rick’s car wasn’t in its customary place. He wondered if Rick had gone out for more booze. At least he might be able to get in, have a quick bite to eat, and be asleep before he got home. He knew Jasmine was right; he needed a plan to get Rick out of h
is life.

  They’d met right after fair was over last year. It had been a quick courtship. Rick was attractive and had been very attentive at first. When they moved in together, that had all changed. Within a month, the self-obsessed asshole emerged. He’d stopped being affectionate and wanted Austin to do everything for him. Whiney and needy, he wasn’t at all the man Austin had first met. He claimed to have a bad back and was on medical marijuana. Their apartment reeked of it. Now if something didn’t directly impact Rick, he didn’t care about it. Like him forgetting that Austin was now working the Renaissance fair on weekends. He hadn’t told Jasmine, but Rick’s last voice mail accused Austin of being out tomcatting around.

  As he walked up the stairs, Austin realized if he had the chance, he probably would, just to piss Rick off. Rick had been the first man Austin thought he loved since his high school sweetheart, who’d been captain of the football team and not ready for a real relationship at the time. But he knew a loser situation when he found himself in one, and the Rick he had now was totally different than the one he’d met nearly a year ago.

  The door swung open before he slid his key into the dead bolt. Rick stood there, still in his bathrobe, his blond hair disheveled, his pale-blue eyes bloodshot and unfocused.

  “Where the fuck have you been all weekend?” he slurred.

  Austin sighed, hopes for a quiet dinner and bed leaving as he pushed past Rick in the doorway. “I told you the Renfair started this weekend and I had to work. Like I did Monday when Jasmine and I helped Phillip stock the pirate booth.” He didn’t bother closing the door, leaving it for Rick to close. He dropped the bag with his costume in it on the couch as he walked past.

  “You didn’t return any of my calls!” Rick replied as he slammed the door so hard it rattled the pictures in the entryway.

  “I was working. I had my phone on vibrate.”

  “What if something important had happened to me? Who puts their phone on vibrate when they are working, anyway? You don’t do that at the printshop.”

  “Phones didn’t exist in the Renaissance period,” Austin explained as he started pacing the small living room, which had blankets, whisky bottles, and a dirty bong out where they hadn’t been when he left Saturday morning. “We aren’t supposed to have things on us that are out of period. No phones, no watches.”

  “That’s stupid,” Rick replied, taking up a pose behind the couch. “Who really works at the Renaissance fair anyway? What kind of job is that? I take it you have to wear some kind of silly costume too?”

  “You didn’t think it was so silly when we were playing pirate’s booty a few months back!” Austin stopped his pacing and glared. “You said it was kinda sexy.”

  “I only said that because I thought you wanted me to tell you that. I don’t see why we needed to pretend to be something we aren’t to have sex.”

  “Well excuse me if I wanted to try and liven things up a bit after you started getting high all the time. Things got really boring when you got on the MJ.”

  Rick grasped the back of the couch so hard his knuckles turned white. “You know I have a bad back!”

  “I know you’re kinda spineless!” Austin shouted.

  “At least I return phone calls! Which is more than I can say for you.

  I was worried all weekend.”

  “You were high and drunk all weekend!”

  “I was in pain and needed you here to take care of me,” Rick whined.

  “I was off making money, bitch, to help pay our bills? Speaking of which, where is your part of the rent? You were supposed to get paid this week!” Austin was about to lose what little restraint he had. He hated shouting matches, and this wasn’t the first one he’d had with Rick. It had gotten to the point where they were having at least one fight a week. That was too much. He’d covered Rick’s part of the rent last month, and the man had promised to get him some cash this week.

  “Hey, I got paid.”

  “And where is the money?”

  “It should be in my pants.” Rick looked about the chaos of the living room.

  Austin stomped into the bedroom. A pair of Rick’s jeans lay across the rumpled bed. After digging in the pockets, he came up with a small wad of cash. There was fifty bucks there. He knew Rick’s checks were normally almost a thousand dollars every two weeks from the call center he worked in.

  Throwing the pants down in disgust, Austin turned to glare at Rick, who now leaned against the doorframe.

  “Fifty bucks?” he yelled. “All you have left of your check is fifty bucks. You smoked and drank the rest of it?” Blood pounded in his head. He needed to get away from Rick now. He didn’t care that it was his apartment. He needed to leave.

  “Hey, I was in pain. Don’t you care that I was in pain?”

  “At this point, no, I don’t care that you were in pain. We… I have a life to live that doesn’t include blowing every available cent on booze and weed.” Austin jammed the fifty bucks in his pocket along with the two hundred he’d gotten for working the Renfair. “You need to figure out what’s important to you!” He yanked out a couple of drawers from the dresser sitting next to the door, then pulled out a few of changes of clothes so he could get through the week at the printshop. He headed back to the living room, pushing past Rick.

  “Where are you going?” Rick shouted.

  “I don’t know!” Austin screamed as he unzipped his Renfair bag and shoved the clothes in, not caring that he was mixing clean and dirty items. “I just have to get away from you!”

  “Well don’t expect me to be here when you come back!”

  Not bothering to reply, Austin slammed the door again on his way out of the apartment. He hurried down to the Jeep. He knew Jasmine would take him in, even if her couch was more than a little bit lumpy.

  Chapter 9

  “I think we still have time for dinner before the party,” Dale said to Catherine as she slid into the passenger seat of his truck.

  She smiled at him. “If we don’t do anything extravagant, you mean?”

  Dale nodded as he started the truck. “So you said there’s a nice little Mexican restaurant in Castle Rock.”

  “That’s right, Don Pablo’s. I’ll get you there. They have the most delicious enchiladas.” Her manner and voice didn’t change much when she was out of character, even if she had been wearing jeans and simple blouses during the off days. Most Renfair actors had very distinctive personas between their mundane selves and their character. Catherine was different. She had spent the past couple of days coming to the site to watch him practice and more than a little time flirting with him. So far, Dale hadn’t worked up the courage to tell her he wasn’t interested. He’d been careful in dodging her advances, and they were rapidly becoming friends. Being able to make friends easily helped him avoid being alone more than he liked. For all her fluff and circumstance, Cat had a depth he hadn’t been expecting.

  “So is there anything I need to know about this party tonight?” Dale asked as he piloted the truck onto the two-lane road going through Larkspur toward I-25.

  “Not really,” Catherine replied. “Chipmunk throws two parties a year, this one and then one the Monday after fair is over. A lot of the cast and crew show up, so they are great places to meet folk in a more relaxed setting than on weekends when the gates are open. Lots of gossip will be exchanged. Old friends will catch up on what’s happened over the year. New people get to meet most everyone. There are some that can’t make it. They have jobs in the city and only come out on days we’re open. Others are just antisocial, if you know what I mean?”

  Dale laughed as he drove up on the interstate, heading north. He knew many antisocial folks who just worked the Renfair and didn’t bother getting to know the other people there. He figured most everyone that camped out at the site would be there.

  “So I presume John won’t be there?” he asked.

  Catherine chuckled. “Sir John the Pious has never been seen at one of the cast parties and probably
never will. The odds are that mysterious woman of his doesn’t like socializing with the likes of us. It might actually cause a bit of a stir when you show up. Jousters aren’t known for being very social around here. Although Max shows up at most of the parties.”

  “I can see Max doing that.” Dale nodded as he passed a slow-moving Volkswagen bus. Max was more like the Renfair folk he was used to dealing with than the part-time jousters he employed. Dale was still getting to know Max but figured he had an interesting tale to tell, and hoped to get it out of him someday.

  “Chipmunk said yesterday he’d even talked some of the performers into singing this year. More than just the Laundry Lushes, that is. This could be an even bigger party than the one toward the middle of fair, the Fourth of July bash. Now that party can get out of hand. Last year it dissolved into a small orgy. I hate to admit it, but I came home with a bit of an infestation.”

  Dale laughed loudly. “No, not you with an infestation?” He’d lost count of how many infestations he’d had from going to more adult parties at the various fairs across the country. Some were cleaner than others, but when you got a bunch of people spending a big part of their lives living out of tents, cleanliness wasn’t always top priority.

  “Well, truth be told, half the queen’s court was itching for about a week after that party. It could’ve been worse, but the queen herself wasn’t there.” Cat laughed too. Dale had to admit to himself, if he were straight, she was the type of lady that would draw his attention. She was a strong, willful woman who was far from a shrinking violet.

  “So tell me more about you,” Cat demanded playfully as they sat eating chips and salsa, waiting for their meal to arrive. In the distance, a mariachi band played as they wandered through the restaurant.

  Dale shrugged. “Not much to tell really. I’ve been a jouster now for about five years.”

  “And leaving a string of broken hearts in every fair, no doubt.” Catherine smiled.