LANCED-A-LOT
By: Silenos
This story is a work of fiction and involves teenagers in sexual situations. If that offends you, don't read it. If you are underage, don't read it (like that's going to happen). This story belongs solely to the author and may not be copied or reproduced in whole or in part without permission of the author.
Please contribute to Nifty, these guys work hard and need your copper, silver and gold so we can have these stories. https://donate.nifty.org/donate.html
Feedback is always gratefully appreciated: silenos69@protonmail.com
The following tale came to me from a wealthy friend who found it bound in his family's extensive bookshelves. Nobody could read it as it was in a strange hand and written in a mix of the common tongue and Norman French of its day. His family has lived in the same place, if not home, for centuries and are what one might consider landed gentry. My friend brought it to me in hopes I might be able to transcribe it into the English of our own time as that sort of thing is what I do. I have updated it only in that I have made such things as measurements, expressions, and such understandable by our reckoning today. What I found in my labors was quite startling. It would be wise for the reader to remember that mores were different then, and that the perception of "age" was as well. Average life expectancy was about 33 years, and people were smaller too, the average height being about 5'7". Insofar as I can tell these pages were written after the Norman conquest, but not by much. England, Scotland, Wales and Cornwall were all very much their own kingdoms, with petty kingdoms within, and Vikings could still be something of a nuisance in some parts even though history says their terror ended in exactly 1066.
LANCED-A-LOT: Chapter 2
"A pleasant surprise indeed," a voice had growled. Idris turned and knelt by me to pick up his sword. There were six of them holding assorted armaments as raggedy as their clothes. A total of six of them were standing by Idris' mount and pack horse which he tethered to a branch at the entrance to the clearing.
The biggest and ugliest lout of the lot was obviously the leader was the one who had spoken. Brandishing an old short sword he grinned through foul teeth saying "two naked sodomites and six of us, I like those odds." It was plain there would be no mercy from this bunch.
"Roll to your left and run!" hissed Idris as he rose drawing his weapon from its sheath and stood; a magnificent, naked, blond Knight. I did as I was told except for the bit about running. As I rolled I grabbed both of my shaving and long knives and sprang to my feet. What happened next took less time to happen than it will take to write.
Two of the creatures dashed toward me expecting a chase, not a charge which is what they got. We were close and I simply had to lunge forward as they drew back their weapons to swing. I drove my blades into their chests, stumbling as they fell, registering more shock than pain.
Another had been heading toward Idris but changed course to aid his now fallen companions. Yanking my blades from the dead men's chests I dove and somersaulted directly into the new foe. Springing up to thrust both up through the villain's chin and into his brain, As he fell his sword arm swung out slicing the width of my chest in a diagonal.
I had no time to notice. Turning to Idris he was being set upon by the leader and another, the sixth already lay dead on the ground. With no thought I leapt at the back of one, plunging a blade into his back and through his spine. My attack startling the remaining outlaw, drawing away his attention to lose his head to Idris' powerful sword. This blond Knight was truly a warrior to behold. Gone was the pleasant man of a few moments ago, replaced by a fierce and adept berserker with blood lust in his eyes.
He, returning to the gentle man of earlier, and I bent over panting. He wheezed at me "so that is what it is like to kill a man. These were my first."
"Mine too," I managed to grunt back as my thoughts congealed. "Quickly Idris, take the animals to the stream so they may drink." I ordered and he obeyed without protest. We both knew there had to be others who would come looking for their companions and must therefore must be quickly gone.
As Idris watered the horses I gathered the dead men's purses (I am, after all, my father's son) as well as their armaments. The weapons I threw as far into the water as I was able to ensure no others would be able to use them; they were too cumbersome and heavy to carry for the value of their iron. Then I beckoned Idris back into the stream to hastily wash off the blood.
Returning to the bank Idris noticed my wound, which was not deep, and insisted on ripping up a tunic from one of his bags to bandage me before we dressed. I could not help but notice how tender his touch was; expecting rougher treatment from a knight I suppose. We then dressed in near silence and great haste having no wish to tarry longer than necessary with the dead who we would leave as they lay.
Idris mounted his horse and I began to say "I guess this is goo..."
"Get on," he extended an arm to pull me up behind him. "You'll never get far enough away on foot."
"Really?" I was stunned.
"Really. Besides, I need a squire if you don't mind having an impoverished Knight for a master." Poor master or not, becoming a squire was a huge step up for one of my station. I took his arm and swung up behind him. My erection, which had sprung up as he bandaged me, pressed against his back and he snickered "I guess you like the idea. We will have to do something about that," he leaned back against my engorged lance "later. Would you like that?"
"No Sire, I think I would love that." I responded, clasping him around his powerful middle to steady myself on the horse. At my embrace he did the most amazing thing; he giggled!
Achieving the road quickly we had been travelling but a short way and went around a bend where we came face to face with some twenty or more men at arms, all mounted on an assortment of rather questionable horses. We stopped in front of them, as they had halted and blocked the road on hearing our approaching approaching hooves.
"Hail Sir Knight," the one in the lead greeted us. He wore no badge of rank; but was obviously the leader. "Where are you bound?"
"I travel to Castlemount to meet my fellow knight Sir Gallant who is soon to wed Sir Castlemount's daughter." News to me, but at that stage everything was. "I see from your banners and badges you are in his service."
The leader relaxed some "We are seeking outlaws and bandits and protecting the road as a large band of them have been plaguing the passage of such as yourselves. They are particularly elusive. Nasty lot too, given to murder first and rob after."
"I'll believe it, um, Captain" the leader seemed pleased with the title, "I think we may have baited the hook a bit for your fishing expedition. Follow me." With that he turned as around and set off in the direction whence we came. I could tell he was up to something, and wondered if he thought as I did. I'm sure we'd both agree these apparent bumblers were on a fools errand if they actually thought they would encounter outlaws simply by riding down the road armed to the teeth as they were. What did they expect? The Outlaws to jump out of the bushes proclaiming "oh look, here are some armed men out to kill us. Let's make it easy for them!"
We led the Captain and his men to the brook and the bodies we had only recently absconded from. On seeing the six dead the Captain and his men's eyes bugged, and they all paled. "You, you did this? On your own?" the shocked Captain choked.
"Well my squire..." Idris started.
"I'm sure," the Captain interrupted with a grunt and a skeptical glance at me. "You are too Modest Sir Idris" he snorted, causing Idris' hackles to rise, I calmed him with a well placed palm on his back.
"Regardless, he was injured in the fray and I must get him some attention for his wounds."
"Noble of you," nodded the Captain. "We'll just wait for the companions of these fellows to seek them out so we may pounce on them. You go on ahead. I shall have one of my men lead you, but you will not make Castlemount tonight, though there is a village to take shelter in which is none too far."
As we had left the horses on the road and were now on foot I stepped around Idris to address this obvious oaf. "I beg your pardon Captain, but my master was saying just before we came upon you that, with enough of a force, we might have lain in hiding to secretly follow whoever these villains companions might be when they came looking, back to their camp and so dispatch the entire band."
Captain Oaf paused as if to think about it (a capacity I am sure was beyond his native talents) before saying "Very clever, Sir Knight, that is exactly what we shall do." With that he beckoned a man who was dozily picking his nose at the back of the band, commanding him to "Take Sir Idris and his..., boy, to the village and stay there. I do not want you alerting the other outlaws with a noisy return." The man grunted and waved for us to follow him.
It took us but an hour to reach the village, Idris whispering over his shoulder "We must talk, but not now. I fear gossip more than lances and swords," I clung to his waist all the tighter to signal my whole-hearted agreement, as well as let him feel a very stiff lance against his back.
The village, as it turned out was little more than a collection of hovels surrounded by rickety walls and a gate that would not protect a mouse from a crippled cat. There was a questionable Inn with a barn and smithy behind it, and a few other structures which may, or may not, have had occupants. We dismounted and the, so called, soldier ordered me to "take the horses round the back to the Smith boy. He will see they are stabled."
Idris was going to raise his voice at the arrogance of the man but I jumped in a saying "It is no bother Sire, it will take but a minute and my wounds are not that bad." I wanted no rancor or ill will with Castlemount's men when it seemed our future might well be tied to them. Until we knew what lay ahead it was prudent not to spoil the land before we planted the crops; even if we did not yet know what crops we were sewing.
Approaching the Smithy and barn from around the decrepit Inn there came to my ears an all too familiar slapping sound accompanied by equally familiar moans and groans. Slowing my pace and creeping forward I found a crack in the wooden structure of the barn through which could be made out the naked figures of two males. The male part was obvious as a muscle bound, bearded man, was driving his hard rod in and out of the other's bum, and the one taking it with great enthusiasm had a very stout and impressive member of his own bouncing against his belly with each thrust. The latter was a slender blond boy who was quite pretty, his ecstatic smile and his stiff leaking joint gave evidence of his lusty pleasure. Not to mention he was begging for more and harder as his hands clutched the table over which he was bent.
For his part the bearded man, who I took to be the Smith, was panting his answer to the pleas grunting out "You like this boy! Don't you? Don't you?"
Having been interrupted before my own needs could be satisfied that morning, and then had my ass teased by the roll of the horse and the feel of my cock against Idris' back, it was no wonder I needed to spew forth my own juices. Slipping my hand up my tunic I grabbed my throbbing member and began stroking it matching my strokes to the thrusts of the great beast pounding away inside.
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" the recipient of those thrusts squealed as he threw his head back great white bolts of cream shot out of his prong without benefit of his touch. I had been too long denied and my own come rattled my legs. Almost in the same moment the Smith pulled his partner to him and belted out a howl as he too released.
The coupled pair in the Smithy/Barn panted in their recovery. I straightened my tunic, looking down to see I had quite soiled the soil beneath me and discreetly kicked some dirt over the evidence of my release. Taking a deep breath I loudly cleared my throat and called out "Hello? Hello? Is anyone there?"
From the Smithy/Barn came the sounds of scrambling and a guttural response "In here!" I stepped forward to the of the place, for that is what it was. On one side were stalls of a building of wood and on the other a rough stone Smithy. The two men, the big bearded Smith, and his companion a lithe blond boy of some 17 or 18 summers, both flushed and sweating profusely. I stifled a chuckle at how men do not change; the elders seek the younger, and the younger seek the elder. The stench of sex was evident in the air and all of us pointedly ignored it; though I thought an understanding conversation was had between our sets of eyes.
"Pardon me, my master Idris the Brown is looking for somewhere to stable his horse and pony for the night and I was told the Smith might have such accommodation." I had made up the "Brown" bit as I realized I had no idea of Idris' full titles.
"I'm the Smith," Replied the big man stepping forward, "we can care for the animals."
"Um, Sir," blurted the boy. "You're bleeding." The make-shift bandage had soaked through and was now staining my tunic. Bloody Hell! I only had one other and this was my good one.
"It is nothing, just a little gift from some outlaws we ran into."
"Outlaws!" the two exclaimed together before the Smith commanded "Thomas, bring in the animals, then go fetch Agatha. I will bring this boy to the Inn." Which is what happened.