by Toni Sands
The ale was relaxing the newcomer, but not that much. ‘I can manage perfectly well on my own,’ said Gavin.
‘Of course,’ said Zebal. ‘Most of the Jupiter boys are out doing exciting things so I’ll show you to the wash house and you can sluice away to your heart’s content. I’ll lend you some clothes till we find out what’s happening to you. I imagine you will dine with us this evening. Sir Tiernan is keen on everyone bonding.’
‘Have you known him long?’ Gavin found himself curious as to how the lord handpicked his elite squad.
‘We were at the academy together. I taught him to play chess and I was his practice partner for fencing.’
‘So how many years have you been a Jubilee Knight?’
Zebal tapped the side of his elegant nose. ‘Not enough yet. So whoever you intend focusing upon to topple from his perch, don’t go looking my way, love.’
‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ stammered Gavin.
‘Every magnificent seven needs a touch of camp,’ said Zebal, fluttering his eyelashes. ‘Otherwise everything’s too sweaty and filled with testosterone. Now, follow me and let’s get you ready for your big moment.’ He paused. ‘Tiernan’s a pussycat when he’s not slaying dragons. But don’t tell him I said so.’
Chapter Eight
The fantastic, surreal blood orange sunset made Gavin a tad homesick for his own world. Arcandos flaunted its rainbow vegetation, its wildlife Gavin marvelled at, and its big, endless landscapes. Also its fantastic castles, if Sibilla’s and this one were anything to go by. It was a larger than life world, containing curious creatures and fascinating people.
But back in the real world, where a setting sun looked like a setting sun, he’d be sure of his place, an up-and-coming young knight, with good prospects, including a certain well-born damsel to whom he was paying court. His father’s manor and lands, including many tenants, would be his to control one day when he stopped jousting and journeying. Or would have been.
Here, he was the incomer, someone perceived as a threat. The witch, Sibilla, had ripped him away from the familiar and now he faced an audience with a man who had plenty of brave knights in his household without another hopeful turning up. What kudos he might have gained by rescuing Lady Amara’s pretty maid of honour from dishonour would go unrecognised, given the girl probably wouldn’t want too many questions asked about her long drawn out absence from court.
She’d been a delight, though. Wicked. Wild. Wanton. Earthy. Demanding. She’d sucked on his manhood as though it was a barley sugar stick. She’d liked plenty of fingering. He’d had some difficulty in controlling his passion, particularly when she rode him, plump breasts bouncing, pussy lips squeezing him till he thought he might die if he didn’t come.
But she belonged to someone else. He needed to put her out of his mind, apart from hoping she’d succeeded in putting a word in for him with her mistress, the First Lady, who shared pillow talk with the First Knight.
‘I thought I’d come and see you for myself, before the beauty contest. They’re all agog out there.’
The voice was low. Well-cultured. Gavin spun round to face the speaker. A mountain of a man, with pure silver hair and beard, piercing blue eyes that belonged on a seafarer, and a generous mouth. This man stood in the doorway of the antechamber where Gavin waited to be summoned.
‘Sir Tiernan. At your service, knight. May I call you Gavin?’
‘Of course you may, my lord.’ Gavin’s tongue tripped over his teeth and he made a hasty bow before striding to clasp hands with the big man.
‘Hell’s teeth, I need a drink. Bloody taxman’s annual visit.’ Tiernan reached for the bell pull by the fireplace.
Within moments a maidservant appeared, bearing a tray that held a carafe of wine and two goblets. Catching her lord’s warm glance, she blushed, poured two generous measures without spilling a drop, curtseyed, and left.
‘Cracking piece of crumpet,’ said Tiernan. ‘Might try and find someone amongst my tenants to marry her. Those fantastic tits make her far too tempting a piece to have around the place. Knights are bloody randy. Not that I’d ever – you know.’ He raised his goblet. ‘Here’s to you. I have to tell you, I’ve heard good things about you. Good job today, my boy.’
‘Thank you, my lord.’
‘But I need to discover more about your background. You’ve traversed the Crystal Cleft, isn’t that so?’
Gavin gulped. ‘Yes. How did you know? I’ve told no one here. Does everyone know?’
Tiernan motioned they should each take a seat. ‘You’re a cut above the average knight. It’s unlikely someone like you would be wandering the countryside in search of a position. My guess is you were returning from some kind of crusade in the old world when your horse bolted and the pair of you crossed through a portal to this one. Am I right?’ he boomed.
‘Absolutely,’ said Gavin. ‘Didn’t know which end was up, but my stallion seemed to know where to go and, after that, a sequence of events led me here.’
‘Including the one they call Sibilla?’
Gavin nodded. ‘Mind-blowing sex. Power-crazy hag. Only Jupiter knows how old the witch must be, but to me she looked like paradise on legs after a year and a half subduing savages.’ He blinked hard. ‘Er, sounds like you haven’t met her. I hope I’m not offending you.’
‘I haven’t. You’re not. It’s a familiar tale.’
‘Dare I ask how many others like me you’ve come across?’
Tiernan screwed up his face. ‘My father crossed the Cleft. He was furious at first, I gather. Resentful. Spitting feathers. But he settled into this castle as a journeyman knight, married his liege lord’s daughter, jammy bugger, and fathered me and my four siblings.’
Gavin’s pulse boomed in his ears. ‘Does that mean I’ll never get home?’
‘Certainly not. But if the old bat has selected you to play that game she gets off on, you’ll have to perform. And the better you perform, the more likely you are to build up your points.’
‘Points?’
‘I know how this works, my friend. The rules haven’t changed since my father’s day. Over the years, I’ve seen two or three more like you arrive. Bewildered. Unsure what fate has in store.’ He threw his head back and gave out a warm, rumbling belly laugh. ‘A bit like all of us really, I suppose.’ He reached for Gavin’s goblet. ‘Let me top you up. You see, I’m sympathetic to your cause. You need a foot on the ladder, and I’m your best option. I’m not interested in your CV. I expect it ticks all the boxes. But I hear from my lady wife how courageous you were today when you happened upon one of Amara’s maids of honour in her hour of distress.’
Gavin sat up straight. ‘I did what any honourable man would do.’
Tiernan shook his head. ‘You acted in a chivalrous manner, of course you did. You fought off three ruffians and took very great care of the young lady in question.’ He raised his hand. ‘Let me finish. My wife did not wish to acquaint me with her name. The girl’s suffered enough without tongues wagging, spiteful mutterings about evading chaperones and all that. You know how people can be?’ He twinkled at the young knight. ‘I trust the young lady was suitably grateful for your chivalry.’
Gavin felt his cheeks suffuse with heat. ‘She and I behaved towards each other with the utmost civility. I imagine the incident was down to Sibilla’s dice-throwing antics.’
‘Undoubtedly,’ said Tiernan. ‘But your trusty steed would have led you here anyway. I’m told the enchantress can control animals. It’s not so easy for her to control humans – hence the little tests and little hiccups along the way. Such tests increase in difficulty, so I’m told. I don’t ask questions. My life here is a good one. But if I can give you a step up, I will.’
Gavin heard voices from the adjacent dining hall. ‘I will serve you to the best of my ability, just as I did for my liege lord back home. But I realise I need to wait in line in order to join your elite group.’
The words hung in the air. Each knight taking
the measure of the other.
Tiernan leant forward, one hand resting on each knee. ‘You are correct. I need time to watch you. How you interact with my boys. How you treat my servants. Your prowess in the jousts. Your fencing skills. I’ll have Zebal check your expertise.
‘Now, let us go and dine. You can meet everyone I call my inner circle, with the exception of my loyal Saladin. He is on a mission for me. You may occupy his chair for the time being. By the time he returns, you and I, my young knight, will likely know each other a little better.’
‘It’s Friday, isn’t it?’
‘Poor Zebal,’ said Braden. He turned to Gavin. ‘Friday nights, we have a troupe of exotic dancers come to perform for us. There’s one with a pair of jugs like …’ He caught Zebal’s eye. ‘They’re all extremely fit females.’
‘Sadly,’ said Zebal, shaking his head. ‘Thank Zeus for the pageboys.’
‘Only when you manage to catch one!’ Braden winked at Gavin. ‘You’ll enjoy the show. Nothing happens till the ladies have retired to their bedchambers, though. Then the fun really begins.’
A knight with skull shaven but for a thick brown ponytail of hair leant forward. ‘Speaking of the ladies, aren’t they a little late in arriving at table?’
‘Can’t wait to see Gilda, is it then, Tev?’
‘Get stuffed, Braden.’
‘Notice you don’t deny it.’ Braden turned back to Gavin. ‘How about you, knight? Is there a girl squirming inside her chastity belt wherever it is you come from?’
‘She’s probably given up on me.’ Gavin took another swallow of wine. ‘I’ve no idea when I shall get home.’ He didn’t add “if ever”.
‘Sorry, mate,’ said Braden. ‘But hang out with us and prove yourself and things might change.’
‘My Lady Amara and her maids of honour.’ A voice rang out.
Gavin looked up, startled, as every knight at the table, including the liege lord, shot to his feet. Hurriedly he rose too, only seconds behind them and hoping he wouldn’t gain a black mark for lack of respect.
‘Everyone will want to know which one of these beauties you think most desirable,’ whispered Braden.
The memory of the maid of honour set Gavin’s cock leaping. ‘Surely that has to be the First Lady?’
‘Touch of the silver-tongued smoothie here.’ Braden’s sibilant stage whisper reached Zebal, who shot him a warning glare.
Gavin found himself struck by an irrational urge to laugh out loud. He concentrated on watching the first two maids of honour, walking abreast, preceding the tallest of the small procession. Two more pairs of fresh-faced young women brought up the rear, and Gavin swiftly scanned the six faces, seeking the fiery beauty he’d encountered earlier. His gaze moved to Lady Amara, as she made her way to the side of her adoring liege lord.
His legs, clothed in finest charcoal wool, courtesy of Zebal, almost buckled under him. It was the girl! The chestnut-haired beauty he’d rescued then enjoyed in the willowy cavern, was taking her place beside Sir Tiernan. How could this be? Was her ladyship indisposed? Was he supposed to acknowledge he’d met her stand-in? No. Of course. This was a top secret.
‘So, your first thoughts? About the ladies?’ Braden again, nudging Gavin to sit down, which he did with great gratitude.
‘Er, would that be my lady Amara, seated on Sir Tiernan’s left?’
‘Duh … Of course it is! Where did you think she’d be sitting?’
‘I … Well, I’m overcome by her beauty, her grace …’
‘Gavin?’ Tiernan beckoned to him. ‘Come and be introduced properly to my lady wife.’
Gavin forgot how to breathe. Was this some elaborate hoax, engineered by the witchy mistress of the game? Or was it a bit like first day at the knights’ academy, when japes and tricks were rife? When you were sent out to purchase a packet of dragon’s breath. Whatever it was, he’d better obey.
He arrived beside Lord Tiernan like an obedient gun dog.
‘Amara, my love, permit me to introduce Sir Gavin, who came to the aid of one of your ladies today. He has travelled a long distance to be with us. At the risk of making my boys jealous, I find I have a soft spot for the fellow already. We have something in common.’
More in common than Tiernan thought. Gavin bowed, and Lady Amara extended one slender hand, her fingers glittering with precious gems. He looked up into those sparkling brandy-golden eyes – the same eyes he’d looked down into while plunging his cock into her honey-sweet, hot cunny earlier today. Her familiar musky perfume rose from her cleavage, beguiling him. Warning him. She’d had him for breakfast. He had to be clinging to the edge here. One false move and …
‘Sir Gavin, I am delighted to make your acquaintance.’ Cool gaze. Firm voice. Perfect poise. If she could play this game, so could he.
‘I am grateful to your liege lord for allowing me into his circle, ma’am. I shall do my utmost to watch and learn while I am under his roof.’
‘One moment, please.’ She beckoned him closer.
He could see the swell of her breasts above her tight-fitting gown and breathe in her scent more deeply. More desperately.
She lowered her voice. ‘My maid of honour, who you so gallantly helped today … You realise she wishes to retain her privacy, knight?’
Gavin inclined his head. ‘Indeed, ma’am. I have no idea of the lady’s identity. She kept her eyes downcast and her hood totally covering her head. I seated her behind me on the ride back. I trust she is none the worse for her unfortunate experience.’
An experience that included the pressure of his hot knob against her peachy bottom. Not to mention the heady delights enjoyed under the sheltering foliage. He needed to swallow. Hard.
A twitch of those full lips. A slow blink. A frisson of admiration visible to him and hopefully no one else. But he marvelled how no one seemed to care a toss about the powerful current surging between the First Lady and him.
‘Thank you for your courageous behaviour, Sir Gavin. You are every inch a knight.’
Lady Amara dismissed the newest candidate for a coveted place in her husband’s circle with a tiny toss of her bright, braided head, leaving him to slink back to his chair at the far end of the long refectory table.
Chapter Nine
Gavin leant back, long legs outstretched, ankles crossed. At the end of the hall the dancers poised like exotic butterflies to perform for the assembled male company. He’d taken his seat with the Jupiter Knights, pleased with the knowledge he now knew the name of every one of the seven.
In the front row, fair-haired Braden, his chin stubbly with the beginnings of a beard, was everyone’s drinking buddy and arguably the most laddish of the squad. He sat on Sir Tiernan’s left. The camp one, First Knight’s valued friend and top fencer, Zebal, whose borrowed garments Gavin wore with a slight air of embarrassment, sat on the right of his liege lord. Zebal was all right. Gavin had no desire to learn how to play chess but his rapier skills could do with fine-tuning and the outfit the knight had so readily lent him whispered top quality. Gavin was grateful he hadn’t been forced to join the knights for dinner in his former travel-stained state.
Then there was Cordale, lean and long-limbed. His hair was the colour of dark amber, his eyes green as grass. He ate everything within sight, yet his sinewy frame moved with the stealth of a cat. Enigmatic. Gavin wasn’t sure if this one approved of his presence or not. Sir Tiernan valued this one’s opinions on strategy and spying.
Tev he felt more at home with. This was the shaven-headed knight with the tail of hair fastened behind his neck. He’d been teased about fancying one of the maids of honour. Gavin thought it was one of the blondes and Tev had confided which one to him over dinner. Gavin sat beside Tev now.
Darien seemed to be next in seniority to Zebal, though he kept a low profile. His sleek hair swung like a raven’s wing and his swarthy skin spoke of mixed ancestry. He had a fine pair of eyes, like sloes. His movements were spare. Bright and intelligent, this knight was
fluent in at least five tongues.
Saladin, currently away on a mission for his liege lord, completed the seven. He too was married, with a wife not far off her time. She was a former maid of honour and the knight and his lady had their own quarters. Everyone seemed to like Saladin and to miss his quick wit. Gavin hoped to be around long enough to meet him.
Any thoughts he might have had of supplanting one of the Jupiter Knights had melted away in their company. There was another, older, knight, called Finn; also on a mission for Sir Tiernan. He looked after the estate so wasn’t in the elite force, though he had once been.
One or two other men joined the assembly, took their seats quickly, and looked expectantly at Sir Tiernan. The First Knight stood, clapped his hands twice, and sat down again. From the furthest end of the hall came the rattle of a tambourine. Then the beat of a drum – low but insistent, accompanying the progress of the seven dancing girls as they sashayed their way to the front.
Gavin watched a whirl of swinging hips, lustrous hair, skin tones from cream to ebony. Slender limbs visible through gauzy, flowing skirts, slit to allow movement. So many colours. Lemon. Violet. Jade. Tangerine. Turquoise. Lavender. Black. He had no experience of performances such as this, but he recognised the grace and beauty of the girls. Their leader, a few paces ahead of the other six, wore the black. Tall for a woman, her shaven head marked her out as a beauty. Her features were perfectly proportioned; her high cheekbones and lush mouth surely belonged to a goddess or high priestess of some fantastic cult? Her catlike eyes, heavily rimmed with kohl and with their promise of delights to come, met Gavin’s as she turned to face the audience. A shiver ran down his spine.
The slow, regular drumbeat was joined by the mellow sound of strings. Gavin turned his head and saw two musicians, eyes fixed on the dancers, fingers concentrated on their instruments.
The girls swayed as one. Pirouetted. Leapt. Gavin thought the knights stayed remarkably silent, telling him they knew what lay ahead. When the dance ceased, two of the girls ran behind the musicians and returned, carrying small woven rugs and satin cushions. They arranged them on the floor and all but one girl sank down.