Single White Knight

by Brynn Paulin

  “Whatever happens there, it will be all right. You have been through far worse than

  they can deal out.”

  “Not in a while, but yeah, I’ve faced down enemy armies and dodged flaming arrows.

  And endured a backcountry inquisition. I can stand up to this.”

  “I killed them, you know.”

  “What?” Toby’s brows came together as he tried to decipher Wyn’s meaning. As Wyn

  was about to answer the waitress brought their burgers with a pile of fries next to each. They

  each ordered another beer. Once she’d departed, Toby looked back at Wyn. “What?” he

  repeated.

  “The men who killed you. Every one of them.”

  “How did you know—”

  “Who? They bragged about it. Then when I returned to wreak vengeance, they

  whimpered and begged like babies. But I showed no mercy.” He took a gulp of beer. “I saw

  what they did to you… Such desecration. Men like that do not deserve to live.” The thought of hunting those men and cutting them down twisted Toby’s stomach. It

  was a different time, that era they’d once lived in. Wyn’s action wasn’t unlawful or unusual.

  Those who cut down a loved one were slain without pity.

  “This shocks you,” Wyn observed.

  “There are so many things I’d forgotten. We don’t live like that anymore. What you did

  is illegal now. I… Well, thank you.”

  “Anything for you, Tobias.”

  The bar had filled as they’d talked and now noisy chatter and loud music made it

  nearly impossible to talk as they had been. Each man focused on their burger, making short

  work of their meals before leaning back to savour the remainder of their beers. “Woods!” a voice thundered beside their table. Toby looked up to see one of his coworkers, a professor from the math department.

  “Stanley,” he said with a nod. The man wove slightly though he stood still, and Toby

  surmised he must have had at least one too many. Stanley’s glassy eyes set on Wyn. “So the dirt is, you’re about to be canned. For being a homo. This the guy?” Toby glanced at Wyn. He stared over Toby’s shoulder, his jaw set and his arm resting

  lightly on the back of the booth. Toby knew Wyn enough to know tension knotted though

  him, despite his relaxed posture.

  He glanced back at Stanley. It was unlikely that he’d remember their conversation in

  the morning, but still, Toby’s job might depend on his response.

  “I’m not gay,” he lied. “This is my friend, Wyn.”

  Wyn leant further back against the booth, saying nothing. His face didn’t change and

  his stare didn’t shift.

  “Well, fuck me,” Stanley exclaimed, spitting slightly as he spoke. “Guess I lost that bet.” He shambled away, and Wyn glared at Toby.

  “I am ready to leave,” he said. “I would walk through fire for you, Tobias. I know now,

  you would not do the same for me.”

  “Wyn—”

  Ignoring him, Wyn got up and walked away. Toby dropped his head into his hand.

  He’d screwed this one up bad. He’d thought Wyn knew his situation, that he understood.

  Swallowing back his panic, he tried to flag down the waitress for the bill. Fifteen minutes

  later, he finally exited the bar.

  He thought Wyn had gone to the car, but he wasn’t there.

  Shit! Where was Wyn? He scouted around the parking lot then headed back towards

  the bar. He headed east on Bridge Street, thinking perhaps Wyn was attempting to walk

  home. He didn’t like walking around here after dark, but he was worried about Wyn. Wyn was nowhere to be found and didn’t reply to Toby’s calls.

  “Lose your puppy?”

  Toby stiffened at the grating voice behind him followed by scattered chuckles of a few

  others. He turned to find four men, obviously somewhat tipsy though he wasn’t sure how

  inebriated they were. They looked like normal, clean cut college students in polos and jeans.

  It was the alcohol that made them dangerous.

  He started to back away, but two men quickly darted behind him. Shoving him towards

  the ring-leader.

  “Oh, you want me, fag?” The guy sputtered with laughter. “We saw you come in with

  that other queen. Had a hissy fit and left you, did he?”

  “Just let me go.”

  “But you want a fuck. You like it hard?”

  Terror shot through Toby. Surely, they wouldn’t assault him.

  “Well, fuck this!” the same guy spat. He grabbed Toby’s collar and slammed him into

  the brick wall of the building beside them. A jagged edge caught Toby’s temple. Before he

  could move away or lift a hand in defence, a meaty fist smashed into his face. His shirt

  twisted into his neck as the guy held him. His air cut off as he struggled. Blindly, he swung at

  his attacker and heard a grunt as he hit his mark. Almost immediately, his hands were

  caught and held to the sides. His main attacker grabbed his hair and slammed his head into

  the wall. A few random punches pummelled his abdomen, but the pain began to blur as it

  sluiced through his body and his vision greyed.

  He thought he heard someone yelling, but he couldn’t be sure as the pressure on his

  neck suddenly released and he collapsed to the ground.

  * * * *

  The four thugs had done enough damage to send him to the hospital by ambulance. The Spectrum Hospital ER had patched him up, but had insisted on CT scans to look for a concussion—which he’d had. They’d kept him overnight for observation then slapped him with a phenomenal bill. He was thankful Grand Riverside hadn’t fired him yet. At least he had insurance for a few more hours.

  He hurt like hell as he took a cab from the hospital to the parking lot where his car was parked. The patrol cop who’d intervened in the attack had seen to it that it wouldn’t be towed. Toby was so thankful for that man. He’d likely be dead or, at very least, hurt far more if the police hadn’t happened by. Wyn hadn’t been anywhere nearby as a crowd had gathered to see the spectacle. He didn’t know where Toby had been all night.

  As Toby let himself into the condo shortly later, it occurred to him that Wyn apparently didn’t give a rat’s ass where he’d spent the night. His home was untouched, the bed unslept in. Fighting the emotional pain that welled inside him to rival and surpass his bodily pain, Toby pulled off his clothes, popped a pain pill, set the alarm so he wouldn’t miss the meeting then fell onto the bed.

  When he awoke a few hours later, Wyn hadn’t returned. Aching, he showered then pulled on a navy suit with white button-down shirt and a paisley tie. His head throbbed as he bent to tie his polished dress shoes. He gasped with alarm when he looked in the mirror at his bruised face, split lip and swollen eye. Neat stitches made a track from his temple to his hairline. He was a train wreck.

  He gripped the sink as the world seemed to swim. Carefully taking deep breaths, he waited for things to settle into place then drew a cool cloth over his cheeks. Nothing improved, and his heart sank. Here was a great image to present to the board. Frankly, he was more worried about where Wyn had gone. He prayed he wasn’t hurt somewhere or lost with no idea how to find Toby. He had a cell phone—Toby had hooked him up with that on Tuesday and they’d practiced calls so Wyn knew how to use it. Lost just didn’t wash. Wyn was purposely staying away, especially since Toby had called him several times and the calls had gone to voicemail. Toby hadn’t told Wyn he’d been attacked and hurt. He wasn’t playing the pity card.

  Anger keeping him strong, Toby made his way back down to his car, aware he probably shouldn’t be driving. He was angry at the four men who’d beat him, at the college for the crap they were putting him through, at societ
y for looking down on him and even at God for the trials he’d sent and the glaring lack of protection. He wasn’t, however, angry with Wyn. By some measure, Toby felt he deserved Wyn’s ire and his lover had nothing to do with what had happened last night. He would never have willed this to happen to Toby.

  Toby rubbed his face then winced at the instant pain. Thank heaven, the four who’d done this were arrested. He hoped they’d stay locked up for a good long while, though he supposed they were probably already out on bail.

  He squinted into the bright sunlight as he left his parking ramp. The movement made him wince. Oh to be back in bed. After taking a few more pain pills. His head throbbed as he headed to the college. He didn’t dare take anything. He wanted his head as clear as possible for what he had to say.

  The board waited in their meeting room when he arrived, and he was directed inside to sit in a chair facing the U-shaped meeting table.

  Dean Palmer started the hearing as soon as Toby was seated. As if purposely making him wait, the group of twelve talked about inconsequential things for a half hour while Toby struggled to remain upright in his chair. Finally, Dean Palmer turned his eyes to him.

  “Next up, the matter of Professor Toby Woods and whether or not he should continue employment with the college. You’ve all received my report on the gay incident this past weekend and his history of belligerence.”

  History? Really? When?

  “Please take a look at the professor now. Obviously, he believes brawling is appropriate behaviour for a teacher. Do any of you have any questions?”

  A middle-aged black woman sitting at the corner of two tables leant forward. “Professor Woods, have you seen this report?” She held up several sheets of paper.

  “No.” Toby carefully shook his head while flashing lights skyrocketed before his eyes. He winced. He waved away a copy of the report and stood slowly. “I have a few things to say, and they’ll remain the same no matter what the dean has stated in his report. Belligerent? I disagreed with Dean Palmer over my suspension. That was the extent of anything I’ve said that might be construed as out of line by the dean.” He paused. Now was do-or-die. “Am I gay? I’ve done everything possible to keep my personal life separate from my existence here on the campus above speculation. The instance the dean has likely outlined took place off-campus and away from students. Am I gay?” he repeated. “Yes. And that man is my life partner. I’m committed to him.” If Wyn would have him. “And I don’t think that makes me a bad influence. If that will cost me my job, I guess that’s how it is. I’ve been gay a long time and that’s not going to change. I’m tired of denying who I am and hurting the man I love by denying him, as well. This,” he indicated his face. “This is because more people don’t stand up for themselves. This is because people think they can dictate how other people live and hate them if they’re different. If any of this violates the morality clause in my contract…” He shrugged. “I guess that’s for you to decide. You’ll find my records up-to-date and complete.”

  The same woman nodded, her lips pressed together. “If you’ll wait outside, we’ll discuss this matter then let you know our decision.”

  * * * *

  Toby dropped a box of his things inside his condo door. He leant against the door and listened to the tomblike silence. Wyn wasn’t here. He felt it with every bit of his being. His fear that he’d completely lost his knight weighed him down more thoroughly than the worry about his job had. In the end, they’d fired him, and to his surprise, he felt relieved about the loss.

  But true relief was not to be his. He’d failed Wyn. Until today, he hadn’t realised how off his thinking had been. He’d relied on Wyn to be his white knight, but it was Wyn who needed the knight. He needed someone to love and stand up for him. Wyn’s father never had. Toby had never been in the position to. Nor had anyone else. Wyn had only needed love, and he’d do anything for that person who’d give it to him unconditionally. And Toby had failed. He’d been there for Wyn—unless he’d been called on to stand up for their love.

  God, he sucked. He had to fix this. Somehow. Weary from staving off the pain through determination, he staggered into the living area and froze, his blood running cold. No! No…

  All Wyn’s papers they’d left on the table this week were gone. Every last one. And in their place sat a single sheet of paper and Wyn’s ring.

  Toby’s heart had stopped beating and he clutched the back of a chair, groping his way around it to sit down. His hands shook as he picked up the note. Wyn had written it in Old English since he still wasn’t completely comfortable with his otherworldly grasp of modern English.

  Tobias,

  All I have ever wanted is to be with you. In our time, that was impossible though I would have chanced the outrage of our people if it would not have meant your death. In this time, judgement remains, as does danger to those who are different, but it is not the same. In this day, men can admit their love for one another…and live. Since you cannot or will not acknowledge me, perhaps this ring is better placed on your finger once more. You have my heart, but you can keep it in that box until you want it in your palm for a while.

  Alwyn

  Tears streamed over Toby’s cheeks as he read, Wyn’s ring cutting into the palm of his fisted hand. He had to find Wyn, but where? He was pretty sure Wyn didn’t know about planes—God, he knew next to nothing about the twenty-first century. Where would he go?

  Toby looked around the apartment. Wyn’s sword was gone, but he’d left everything else. Of course, he’d taken his weapon. It was the one thing he could have faith in. It wouldn’t fail him. Not like people. Not like Toby. The sword was the one thing constant with a knight. His sword, his livelihood… Toby closed his eyes. The sword was the only thing he could trust to get him through, but even that was removed in the twenty-first century. In this day and time, what did Wyn have?

  Tobias. He’d damn well have Tobias. Somehow, he would prove to Wyn that he could trust their love.

  Pushing aside the excruciating pain that had moved from a throb to a stab through his skull, he left the table. Nothing mattered other than finding Wyn.

  He shoved the ring in his pocket. The only finger it was going on was Wyn’s. The elevator seemed to take forever but taking the stairs was out of the question. He wanted to get outside, not land in a heap on the landing when he lost his balance. Finally, the elevator arrived then started the slowest descent it had ever made while Toby impatiently tapped his foot.

  The security guard stared at Toby as he marched across the lobby then he rushed out of the building. He groaned as he ran into a wall of human flesh. Wyn. Without looking up, Toby recognised his scent, the feel of his hard body, the sword swinging at his hip. Toby wrapped his arms around Wyn, hugging him with all his might. He pressed his face to Wyn’s shoulder.

  “I need your help to get me to my home in England. After that, I won’t bother you again.” Wyn said, his voice expressionless, his arms hanging at his sides rather than holding Toby.

  “No,” Toby said flatly.

  “No?”

  Before Wyn could react—or see his damaged face—Toby reached up and pulled Wyn into a kiss right there on the street for anyone to see. It hurt like hell, but he wasn’t stopping. Wyn didn’t immediately respond then, all at once, he groaned, his strong arms pulling Toby flush to his body. Toby didn’t flinch or pull away, even when the catcalls came. He just let Wyn continue kissing him, possessing his lips and tongue.

  “Come inside with me,” Toby urged, pulling his mouth slightly away. “Not because I want to hide, but because what I want to do with you will get us arrested… I swear I will never hide my love for you again. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  Wyn nodded, his wary eyes turned to shocked when he spied Toby’s face. “Who did this to you, Tobias?”

  “A group of thugs last night when I left the bar. They’re in jail. A cop stopped them before they could—do worse.”

  Wyn traced the stitches then his fingers
moved over his face. “Tobias… If I’d been there…”

  “Don’t,” Toby ordered. “Things might have been worse if you’d been there. You could be in jail, because they were too drunk to know better.” He thought it better not to tell Wyn he was searching for him. That guilt wouldn’t easily go away. “I love you, Wyn. I’m just glad you’re here now.”

  He took Wyn’s hand for all to see and pulled him inside to the elevator. He didn’t release him as they stepped inside. “Kiss me again,” he said.

  “I will hurt you.”

  “The hell with that. Please…”

  Wyn kissed him lightly, his lips barely touching Toby’s even when Toby strained for more. “By the saints, Wyn. I’m not going to break!”

  The elevator opened on his floor before Wyn had a chance to kiss him more effectively, though Toby was beginning to doubt he would. Shaking his head and starting to feel a little better, he dragged Wyn to the condo. Inside the door, Wyn stared at the box of Toby’s things.

  “What is this?”

  “I told them I’m gay and that I’m not going to hide it anymore. That I couldn’t do that to the man I love. It’s been a bad twenty-four hours. Worst was that I drove off my knight.” His fingers went to Wyn’s sword belt. The weapon fell to the tile with a clang.

  “Tobias…”

  “Please don’t leave me. I’ll do better. I promise. I want to be with you for the rest of our lives. Please…I was so scared I’d lost you.”

  Wyn pushed Toby’s suit jacket off him then started on his buttons. “I want to see how angry I need to be.”

  Toby covered his hands. “I’m fine.”

  “I doubt that. I failed you again.”

  “No,” Toby replied firmly. “For the first time, I saw clearly today. I failed you. Never again Wyn. Not on purpose. I knew denying our relationship hurt you, but I did it anyway out of self preservation. I should have been more worried about what I was doing to you.”

  “Tobias.” Wyn cupped his face. “I love you. I did not know what else to do. I could not live with you and pretend I did not want you, that I did not love you more than anything.”