Fallon and Marguerite rise gracefully from their thrones and approach us. “King Patrick of Aethelmarc, Master Stephen Blackhawk of the Two Shires, it pleases us that you came to this important War Summit this day,” Fallon’s rich voice booms. “We shall commence the War Summit business in a moment, but at present there are more important matters at hand. Right, Marguerite?”
“Prince Phillip, King Patrick, and Master Stephen,” Marguerite’s light, regal voice rings out across the encampment. “The three of you have been at war among yourselves for many years. This year, King Patrick and Master Stephen both came unto us, the King and Queen of the Midrealm, seeking a peaceful solution to this long and bitter family war. With the help and guidance of our friends in the Great Dark Horde, as well as the Midrealm Thrones’ royal influence, a solution was devised.
“At my suggestion, King Fallon determined to allow Master Stephen Blackhawk of the Two Shires to change his SCA residence from Aethelmarc’s border shire, the Shire of Silver Glen, to the Midrealm’s closest border barony, Brendoken. After speaking with Master Stephen personally on the matter, I conceived that King Fallon could then invite Master Stephen to the Midrealm Crown Tournament.”
Marguerite goes to stand between Syr Phillip and Master Stephen. “Master Stephen told me the sad story of this family’s long and bitter war, which dates all the way back to Pennsic 14. The mundane Dawson family is one that excels in the Society fighting arts, and Syr Phillip and Master Stephen are no exception. Master Stephen conceived the idea that he could advance quite far in the Midrealm Crown, with a high likelihood he would face his brother in the final round. Knowing full well that Syr Phillip is the superior fighter of the two, Master Stephen believed—correctly—that if Syr Phillip came to defeat his brother for the Crown, it might open a door for all members of the family to reunite in love. Our friends in the Great Dark Horde also assisted in this peaceful entreaty very recently, when there was unfortunate discord between Their Royal Highnesses, and for that, the Midrealm wishes to thank the Horde by making a gift of an additional ten thousand of the mysterious elfin chocolate cakes over and above our original mercenary offer.”
Shen Fu and Master Melphus both stifle a laugh. “The Horde appreciates the gift,” Shen Fu replies.
Marguerite smiles warmly and goes on. “Now that the seeds of peace and understanding have been sown, it is my royal hope that peace and unity may exist among the surviving members of the Dawson family forevermore. Shall it be so?”
I glance sideways at Syr Phillip. Tears are running down both his cheeks. “It shall be so,” he says, his voice breaking.
“Then let peace and unity commence,” is Marguerite’s reply. She nods towards Master Stephen, and an instant later he and his older brother are embracing and weeping together. King Patrick joins them in a group hug.
After the tear-filled family reunion has gone on for a full five minutes, the Tuchux start clearing their throats loudly. “Ah yes,” King Fallon says. “We are pleased that all members of the Dawson family are at peace, but unfortunately, there is not peace in other parts of the Known World. We must therefore commence the War Summit.”
“Of course,” King Patrick replies. “As King of Aethelmarc, a kingdom ally of both the East Kingdom and the Tuchux, I wish to convey warm wishes from the East Kingdom and the Tuchux. King Olaf of the East is unable to attend this day; he does not arrive on-site until tomorrow morning. The Tuchux are here among us, but as you know the Tuchux dogs and wenches prefer not to speak aloud in the presence of the SCA barbarians.”
Grunts of agreement emanate from the Tuchux.
“King Olaf regrets that the Middle Kingdom’s olive branch offering to end the dispute over the Debatable Lands is rejected; therefore, it appears that War between your two kingdoms is inevitable.”
King Fallon picks up a wooden arrow and breaks it in half with great ceremony. “Tell your ally King Olaf that if it’s war he wants, then it’s war he shall have. The Thirty-Sixth Fighting of the Pennsic Wars for the Debatable Lands has begun!”
“POOHBAH!” everyone shouts in unison.
King Fallon smiles. “Oh and by the way, Patrick, you’ll need to tell King Olaf that the Tuchux may be changing their minds about fighting for the East this year.”
At this, King Patrick flinches and then bows deeply. “I shall convey the message. With Your Majesties’ permission, my son Master Stephen and I must withdraw, as urgent Aethelmarc kingdom business awaits us momentarily. Again with Your Majesties’ permission, we wish to call upon the Crown Prince and Princess tomorrow morning as part of the renewed unity and peace among the mundane Dawson family."
“Permission granted,” King Fallon says warmly, and Syr Phillip’s father and brother leave with expressions of deep happiness and calm on both their faces.
Fallon and Marguerite go back to sit upon their thrones. “And now to settle some unresolved Horde matters,” Fallon says. “KaKhan Shen Fu, your chocolate-chip cookies are currently deposited in the royal treasury. You may pick them up whenever you wish. And as for the matter of the dispute between Lady Ramona and the Tuchux—“
The Tuchux representatives grumble and growl.
“—I believe our Crown Prince Syr Phillip has brought a supply of the medicinal herbs the Tuchux nation was seeking from Lady Ramona after last year’s Pennsic. This should settle matters between you, I hope. Dog and Wench representatives of the Tuchux, you may pick up your medicinal herbs from the royal treasury now. We hope this offering will persuade you to reconsider which kingdom to support in the War this year. You are dismissed.”
The Tuchux leave, grumbling. The faint aroma of bacon grease follows them out. I lean in to Syr Phillip to whisper in his ear. “The Midrealm is giving the Tuchux marijuana?”
“Actually, it’s twelve cases full of oregano,” Syr Phillip whispers back. “But don’t worry. The Tuchux will be too drunk to notice the difference.”
King Fallon motions for us to be silent. “Lady Ramona, as to the matter of your house burning down. I understand your insurance company has agreed to pay, and not hold the SCA liable. Is that so?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” is Lady Ramona’s polite reply. “The fire was caused by faulty wiring, not anything the SCA folk attending the post-revel did.”
“Good,” Marguerite says. “Then this War Summit is now over. I believe the Crown Prince and Princess will wish to dine and retire for the night after their long journey. We wish you a all good evening.”
Baron Grizzly escorts all of us out of the royal pavilion. Lady Ramona, Master Melphus, and Paladar the Passionate come up to Syr Phillip and me, all looking apprehensive.
“Lisa, I hope we didn’t get off on the wrong foot at first,” Lady Ramona says, her voice remarkably sweet. “It’s just that staging the whole bitter-rivalry thing between Melphus and Syr Phillip is required in public to keep Syr Phillip’s Horde affiliation a secret. I was only mean to you at Shen Fu’s insistence, so I could help keep up the facade. I hope you don’t mind. But now since you’re a secret Horde member too, we can be friends in private.” She extends her hand, and I shake it. “No hard feelings?” she asks.
I look at Syr Phillip, and he nods. “What Lady Ramona says is true, Lisa.”
“No hard feelings,” I say, and smile.
Master Melphus claps Syr Phillip on the back. “We sure had ‘em fooled good at all the tournaments this year, didn’t we, Mongol brother?”
“Absolutely,” Syr Phillip says, hugging Master Melphus. “I look forward to even more of our public shenanigans when I’m King.”
Ramona, Melphus, and Paladar all bow and leave Syr Phillip and I alone. Syr Phillip takes my arm and walks me over to our pavilion, which in the growing twilight is illuminated with dozens of candles. A dinner of wine, cheese, grapes, and roasted venison is laid out on our private table, and an unseen minstrel group begins playing gentle lute and harp music as we sit down to eat.
“Well, milady, it seems you and I are well on our w
ay to becoming quite the royal couple,” Syr Phillip beams. He takes my hand and kisses it. “I’m sorry about how crazy these past few months have been for you. And I’m afraid that it’s only going to get worse. With the War opening officially tomorrow, we’re both going to be very busy making all our royal appearances, not to mention all the battles I’m required to help lead the Midrealm Army in fighting, and all the Horde assignments Shen Fu is sure to give us besides. So I’m sorry to say that tonight is probably the only night we will have for the next two weeks to spend any private time together.”
I nibble the skin off a grape seductively. “Well, milord, then I suggest you make it a night to remember.”
Syr Phillip sets down his knife and fork and goes to close the tent flaps. “Well, since you’ve forced my hand, milady, you leave me no choice but to ravish you until dawn. I’m afraid dinner will have to wait until we’re both satisfied.”
Syr Phillip sweeps me into his arms and kisses me with more passion than any medieval knight had for any medieval lady. As he carries me to our mahogany bed, I finally understand that at the end of the day, courtly love is all that really matters between a knight and his lady—whether they live and love together in the twelfth century, or the twenty-first.
About the Author
Jill Elaine Hughes is an award-winning journalist and playwright as well as a New Adult fiction novelist.
As a reporter, she has contributed to many mainstream newspapers, magazines and other media outlets. Her plays have been widely published and produced in New York City, Chicago, Los Angeles, Seattle, Atlanta and many other U.S. cities, as well as in the UK and Australia. She has also published many erotic novels under the pen names Jamaica Layne and Jay. E. Hughes.
She currently lives in the Chicago suburbs with her husband and two children.
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Knights and Kink Romance Boxed Set Page 83