“Well… the Church.”
“They are all buggering each other when they aren’t in here slobbering over my girls. And does it really say making love is a sin? In the holy books, I mean?” The woman cocked her head.
“Th-thou shalt not commit adultery, that is what it says.” Elias’s brain was too foggy to think further than that.
Giuliana stepped forward again and reached out a hand to toy with Elias’s cropped tresses. “I thought adultery is when you sleep with someone who is married already.”
Elias gaped. “Well, yes, but….” He supposed he ought to admit that he was, in fact, married, but for some reason was reluctant say it.
Giuliana leaned in to nibble on Elias’s throat. In between nibbles, she said, “I always thought they just didn’t want a lot of little fatherless bastards running about begging. And we can hardly produce any bastards, can we?”
“I guess not.” Elias raised his arms and put one palm on each of Giuliana’s breasts. They were firm to the touch. He kneaded and moaned. His thumbs found the nipples and discovered they were as hard as little nuts. “Touch me there again,” he heard himself entreat.
“Let’s get these clothes off you first,” the whore said. She expertly untied laces, raised the cloth, pushed down other cloth, and all the while her hands stroked the flesh through and then under it all. By the time he was naked, Elias was trembling all over.
“I want to see you,” he begged.
Giuliana smiled languidly. “Then take off my clothes.”
Elias reached around to untie the laces that closed Giuliana’s bodice down the back. This made him crush the woman’s breasts to his own, and he grinned. “You really like this?” he asked. “With a woman, I mean.”
“I like it, si, much more than with a man. A woman will seek to please me.”
Elias decided not to pursue whether he was or was not a woman. He was happy to play along. “And men do not?” He pulled the bodice forward so that it slipped over Giuliana’s shoulders. The breasts were now covered with only a thin linen shift. He took one in his hand and flicked the nipple.
Giuliana groaned with delight. “Some do. Some men know that giving pleasure makes the whole thing better. But they don’t have women’s bodies, so they don’t know what we like. Have you never made love before?”
Elias had loosened the tie that held up Giuliana’s skirt and let the garment fall to the floor. “Love? No, I have never made love,” he answered bitterly. Elias undid the drawstring of the woman’s shift and drew the neckline over her shoulders to expose her breasts. He sighed as he saw them. He leaned in to take a nipple in his mouth, licking and sucking.
Elias learned delights that night he could never have imagined. Giuliana’s hands on his breasts made them seem to swell with pleasure. After the woman lowered them onto the bed, she started to tickle between Elias’s lips within his mound’s soft downy hair, and he felt as if someone had touched him in his most sensitive place with cold steel. His orgasm came slowly, reaching inside him more sharply and strongly than he ever had through his own tentative explorations. He found himself crying out, sobbing, and moaning. He writhed on the bed, then lay gasping.
“Let me do that to you!” he pleaded. Spreading Giuliana’s lips and taking in the rich aroma of her sex, Elias dipped his tongue in a salty-sweet woman’s brew. He tried to remember the technique the woman had used on his. Whether he did it as well or not, Giuliana responded. As her cries and moans became louder, Elias begged, “Say, ‘Fuck me, Elias!’” When she smiled and complied, Elias hoped the mercenaries were listening.
Settling into each other’s arms, the two took turns resting their heads on the other’s shoulder. Elias discovered he was thinking that this soft, warm cuddling was almost—almost—as wonderful as what they had done first. The comfortable laziness was far from chaste, however, as they reached to stroke some special spot on the other, and the more active lovemaking recommenced.
At the sound of a cockcrow, Elias sat up, unsure at first where he was. Then he felt and smelled Giuliana next to him. Leaning over, he put one arm around her and pressed his chest against the warm, smooth back. His hand rested on a breast. He heard Giuliana sigh. “What is your name, amoro?” the woman crooned.
“Elias,” he whispered.
“Grazie, Elias,” the woman said.
She turned her head to be kissed. Elias was glad to oblige.
They both started when a fist hammered on the door. “Elias! That’s enough. Time to get mounted.” It was Ranulf’s voice, followed by guffaws.
Sebastiano’s voice jested, “Don’t tell him to mount. In fact, he probably already is in the saddle.” More laughter.
Elias called out, consciously deepening his voice. “Can’t you wait? I will be out in a minute.”
Three male voices made lewd sounds.
“All right, but hurry. Conrad wants to get back on the road.”
“Already?” Elias groaned.
After a short time, the door to the room swung in. Elias, fully clothed, stood with a mostly naked Giuliana in his arms, locked in a deep kiss.
The four men out on the rickety gallery stared. The whore had her hands clasped on Elias’s buttocks. “Come back, my lord, I beg you. I have never been fucked like that before. I want it again and again.”
Elias gratefully smiled into the woman’s twinkling eyes. “I already did that. All night.” He bent in for a last long kiss. “Arrivederci, bella,” he said gently, then turned to the mercenaries. “Well, what are we waiting for?”
The men took the steps two at a time. After passing through another door into an alley, Ranulf and Leif put their arms around Elias’s shoulders, Sebastiano and Thomas throwing theirs over each other’s. “Hail the conquering hero!” Thomas began to sing.
Elias stopped dead. He stared at Thomas. “You have an incredible voice!”
Thomas dipped his chin in acknowledgement and switched to a song about a man who seduced every nun in a convent. Ranulf, Sebastiano, and Leif beamed at Elias. They patted him on the back, made rude noises, and did not even try to hide their admiration.
Ranulf said in Elias’s ear, “Now, be honest, what did you pay her to say that?”
Elias smirked. “I paid her nothing. I had nothing in my purse.”
Ranulf raised his eyebrows. “Well, I shall ask you to give me some tips sometime. I’ve known Giuliana for years. She never said anything like that to me.”
Elias beamed. “I will be glad to share my secrets,” he said, thinking how he would hold his best secrets back. They would be of no use to Ranulf.
Back at their inn, Albrecht ran up to Elias. “Where were you? What happened to you?”
“I’ll tell you later. Have you gotten the horses ready?” Elias walked into the inn to retrieve his things.
BEGINNING THE long, tedious ride south through Italy, a journey that would take some weeks, Albrecht noticed his lordly companion seemed troubled. He waited for him to share what concerned him, but when he did not, he took the initiative. “My lord, you have frowned ever since we left Bologna. I wish you would tell me what happened there, when you disappeared.”
Elias frowned. “It’s just that I am not sure.”
“Not sure what happened? Were you drunk?” he pursued.
“Yes, well, no. I mean….” He sighed. Leaning to speak in a low tone, he explained, “Ranulf took me to a brothel.”
Albrecht stared back at him, puzzled. Then his face cleared, and he said, “Oh. You mean, he took you to a whore.” Elias’s exasperated look and nod made him bark out a laugh.
“It’s not funny,” Elias protested.
“It’s not supposed to be funny,” he jested, then thought better of it. With ill-concealed curiosity, he asked, “So, what happened?”
Elias swallowed hard, looked about anxiously, and went on, “What is supposed to happen with a whore.”
Albrecht’s eyebrows shot up. “Well done! But, um, how?”
Elias glared at
him. “None of your business. But there is something I can’t help but wonder about. I mean, I really liked it. Really, really liked it,” he emphasized.
“And that is bad… how?” Albrecht asked.
Elias looked around as if searching for words. “Why did I like it? Is it because what Reinhardt did to me turned me against men?”
Albrecht shook his head. “Didn’t you tell me that Magdalena told you it is about whom you desire, not whom you don’t desire? A preference, I mean.”
Elias gave him a speculative look. “That maybe I prefer women, just as you and my brother prefer men?”
Albrecht nodded. “Mayhap twins can share that, um, proclivity, as well as all the other things.”
He tilted his head to one side to consider his words. “I wonder… I mean, why not? So it may not be that Reinhardt turned me into a sodomite, but that I am one naturally.” He looked up sharply at Albrecht’s laugh. “What’s so funny?”
Albrecht looked contrite. “I am sorry. It’s just that I don’t think women who love women are called sodomites.” He took on an uncertain expression. “Or are they?”
“I’m not a woman!” Elias protested.
“Well, then, that’s your answer. You are a man, so why would you not prefer women? Unless, of course, you were like me and your brother,” he stated firmly.
Elias thought it over and grinned. “I admit, I loved every second of it. Whatever I am, I am content.”
THROUGH THE winter months, they rode south, marveling at the much more moderate weather along the east coast of Italy. The fields went fallow this time of year, but there was ample green in the shrubs and trees. Though it occasionally rained, Elias found he was rarely cold. He enjoyed the sight of the whitewashed cottages and simple stone churches, the busy people singing while they worked, and the young children who ran alongside the pilgrim procession, calling out greetings.
BLACK BEAST put out one arm, long and thick as a tree trunk, so Elias could squeeze in along the rail of the ship. Albrecht was right behind him, and there he remained.
The San Marco was as crowded as the crew’s movements would permit. Their horses and other goods were coming along on another vessel, or so they were promised.
“Do you get seasick?” Black Beast asked him.
“I—I don’t know. I have never been on a ship.” Elias looked out over the water in the harbor at Brindisi. The San Marco weighed anchor and pointed her prow toward the open Adriatic as Elias struggled to his place.
“You better stay here, then. It’s a mixed bag, being at the rail. If you aren’t going to throw up, it’s probably better to give the place to someone who is. Otherwise that person will just throw up all over you,” the big man said in a matter-of-fact voice.
Elias stared at him, disbelieving. Straining to look about, he asked, “This voyage will take how long?”
Black Beast looked down at him. “Longer than you can imagine.”
As a commotion began behind them that drowned even the pandemonium of boarding, Elias raised his voice to scream to him, “And we will have to stand the whole way?”
Black Beast chuckled, though even he could not have heard the sound. He leaned and shouted in Elias’s ear, “They must have room for the crew to work. Just wait. You will see.”
The men pressing in behind Elias shoved him violently against the rail. He was glad Albrecht was the one whose body covered his own. Slowly, as he was buffeted and pushed this way and that, he saw the heads over his shoulder were moving into sections here and there. Albrecht clung to his side so they would not be separated. Black Beast stood rooted where he wanted to be, knowing no one would be able to move him. They lost sight temporarily of Alain and Gerhardt.
Elias was fortunate to have been shepherded to a spot where his back was to the forecastle. He suddenly realized there would be no privy, no privacy in which to relieve himself. He wasn’t even sure how the passengers would get to the rail to do so, no less have the means to do the even more private thing. Panic took him, but he was pressed in on all sides, so he could not act on that panic.
He turned to Albrecht, or where he thought he was, and found himself looking straight into the eyes of Ranulf, the mercenary captain. Ranulf grinned broadly. “We meet again, do we, stud?” To his horror, Ranulf turned to the man on his other side, someone Elias knew only by sight, and said, “You know Giuliana at the Settaducati? This fellow spent the night with her and she could hardly stand afterward.”
The man’s eyes widened. He looked at Elias with admiration. “I am honored to make your acquaintance, pilgrim. May I know your name?”
He cleared his throat. “Elias von Winterkirche, and our mutual companion here exaggerates.”
“I am Jehan de Liège, and the woman has never even agreed to consider my gold.”
Ranulf puffed out his chest. “I paid,” he boasted.
Elias felt a tap on his shoulder from his other side. “You know that man, Elias?” Black Beast muttered unpleasantly.
Turning his head, he saw Albrecht next to him, trying not to smile. Black Beast leaned in from in front of them. He had a surprising amount of space between him and his immediate neighbors.
“I met him and his men in Mölk.”
“What is this about the whore?”
Elias searched for an answer, then fell back on a skewed sort of honor. “A knight of the Cross does not speak of such things.”
Ranulf leaned across him. “He doesn’t have to. All of Bologna will know by now, and probably the whole Po valley.”
Going pale, Elias wondered just what the whole Po valley had heard. He realized two things, however: he trusted Giuliana, and it didn’t matter. He didn’t think he would ever leave the Holy Land. He looked around sheepishly at Black Beast, expecting condemnation, but instead a sort of admiration played on his face.
“I congratulate you, young Elias. And to be truthful, I am a little relieved. You were making us all look really bad.”
“So, Black Beast, where have you been keeping yourself?” Ranulf cut in.
“You know each other?” Elias asked, darting looks at each man in turn.
“Well enough to know what influence a scoundrel can have on a young knight,” the big man said. He reached a hand across and clasped Ranulf’s. “After paying for Giuliana, did you have any gold left?”
Ranulf grinned. “Oh, there is always more where that came from.” He laughed as Black Beast and a few others near them put their hands to their money pouches. “Don’t worry. I’m not the one of my company who can steal in plain view.” Stretching his neck, he looked over his neighbors’ heads. “There he is over there.”
In concert with the other heads about them, Elias looked where Ranulf nodded. There stood Thomas the Silent, his eyes closed and his mouth moving. He was either praying or singing. He certainly was not conversing with anyone.
Ranulf grinned around at them all.
“How do you know each other?” Elias prompted.
Shrugging, Black Beast supplied, “In some battle or another. Either on the same side or not.”
“You don’t mind fighting without a cause? Without honor?” he shot at Ranulf, appalled.
Ranulf simply cocked his head and smiled. “You mean to say that any soldier fights for something he believes in? Not someone else’s cause?”
Elias glanced at Black Beast, who appeared to have nothing to say. “What about this holy pilgrimage?”
A cloud passed quickly across Ranulf’s face. Getting his expression in hand swiftly, he shrugged. “There are mitigating circumstances.”
The Frankish knight on his other side lowered his voice. “Mainz?”
Elias was astounded by the bitter anger on the usually jesting Ranulf’s face.
Jehan rapidly demurred. “Forgive me,” he blurted, lowering his gaze.
Ranulf glared at the Frank and moved to where Thomas stood. He roughly prodded the Englishman, who Elias noticed had a hunting bow slung on his shoulder. Thomas looked up, start
led, then moved as far to the side as was possible. Ranulf squeezed into the tight spot, smashed up between protesting men.
“Mainz?” Elias inquired of Alain.
He muttered, “Nothing,” and turned his back.
At Elias’s questioning look, Black Beast shook his head. “I have heard rumors, but they are so muddled that I dare not spread them. Some say he and his band took part in the massacres. Others said he had a mistress among the Jews and fought the rampaging pilgrims. Still others say he was part of the desecration of the cathedral. I don’t know.”
All grew silent. Elias gazed out at the coast of Brindisi, which slid by and seemed to grow more distant. It is beautiful in the failing light, he thought. Why is the earth so fair and men’s hearts so dark?
Once the light had failed, he leaned to Albrecht. “I have to piss,” he said in a whisper. “What do I do?”
It was apparent Albrecht had not thought about the problem any more than Elias had. “It’s dark. Can you just go to the rails?”
He watched other men making their way through the standing crowd. “Where are they going?”
Albrecht stood on the tips of his toes to see what Elias saw. “They are going to the beakhead.”
“The beakhead? What is that? And how do you know what it’s called?”
“Some squire told me to find a spot up near there, that I would be glad I did. Wait, I see him. He’s the big burly fellow, the one climbing out on the beakhead.” He watched a moment. “Oh.”
“What?” he pressed.
“He’s leaning way out to take a piss.”
Elias paled. “You have to climb out on that thing to piss?”
Albrecht shrugged. “Well, at least it’s more private. I guess that is where you should go.”
“And do what?” he demanded irritably. “Pull down my britches and sit with my arse to the sea? Everyone else is facing the other way.”
Albrecht replied, “Not everyone. Can’t you pretend you have to, you know…?”
“I suppose. I might be able to get away with that in the dark.” He started the process of pushing between men and made his way to the beakhead. To a man standing in his way, he quipped, “Gotta take a shit. You mind?”
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