SQUIRE OF CARLOVAIN
Chapter 4
A FALSE TRAIL TO LORD DENTREMON
By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
Andrew awoke in the earliest of hours with dawn barely lighting the skies, not to Trevish's blandishments, but to the sound of his mother pounding an alarm on an old iron pipe suspended before the inn, used for no other purpose. "Awake! Awake!" she called out. "Horsemen are coming, many of them."
Andrew and Trevish jumped to their feet and dressed rapidly.
"You were to wake me before first light." Andrew protested.
"I was to stand the middle watch, and intended to wake you up at its conclusion." Trevish said. "I am betrayed and dismayed as much as you."
"This alarm bodes ill." Andrew said. "Many riders on these lands can only be from Lord Montaigne."
Andrew had to fetch the sword from the counter, but he and Trevish made it to the front with the others, and the King was but one member of the crowd pushing out the door.
Early morning, nearly silent. Even the birds in the trees could drown it out, but it was there, like thunder the sound of many hooves approaching. Looking down the road, they could just see the group of riding men in the distance, topping the next hill, a dark mass that poured down it toward them with harsh purpose. Whoever was on watch must have seen them atop the taller hill beyond even that, an incredible distance.
"Lord Montaigne's men." Andrew's father identified the men as they got closer. "I recognize some of them."
"There must be twenty of them." the King said.
"We are evenly matched then, for there are four of us." Trevish said bravely.
"Five." Andrew said determinedly.
"Agreed." Adomeh said, smiling at him. "He wields a blade well."
"And I can vouch for his loyalty." the King said. "Did you teach him, Falin?"
"I did, Sire, and he has learned all that I can teach him."
"That is sufficient. Andrew, hand me your sword."
"Sire?" Andrew was puzzled. Did the King plan to fight in his place?
"Hand me your sword."
"Yes, Sire." Andrew sighed and relinquished it. Well, there were the tools in the stable, if he could run out there in time and be back, the pitchfork, for example....
"Andrew, son of Falin, you have concluded your first stage of training in the royal guard. You must now become a squire, and have a noble lord now to act as your protector and sponsor for advanced training."
"Yes, Sire." Andrew said. Where was one to be found, when Lord Montaigne would never now sponsor him? It had been a dream of his to approach Lord Montaigne on one of his infrequent stops at the inn....
"I, the Lord and King of Carlovain, take you as my squire." the King rested the sword flat on Andrew's shoulder, and Andrew knelt belatedly in wonder. "Arise, and continue with your studies, for you are worthy and I sponsor you."
Andrew stood up, and accepted back his blade. He was the King's squire? Kings didn't have squires! They had royal bodyguards instead!
"It is only meet, if you must fight and perhaps die this day, that you do so with a proper title in the Royal Guard." The King said, smiling gently at him. "Now your sovereign needs must go and find a hiding place as best he can, as would a cowardly cur."
"Or a wise man who knows his country depends foremost upon his personal safety." his father said, smiling. "We have prepared a hiding cubby for our family against the need, not far from the inn, and disguised by bushes and rocks as a hillock of worthless land. Not even our neighbors know of it, for it is our family's secret. Margaret, take the King there."
"Nay, you take him there, and stay by him." his mother said. "If these brave men fall, he may need a last defense to let him get free. But take the butcher knife in the kitchen as you pass through."
"And what of you, my wife?"
"No time to argue! Now go!" his mother said. She left them also, but went into the inn instead of around as his father and the King did.
The men were already at the clearing in front of the inn's drive, and some of the men were hauling up their horses at the array of shining blades waiting for them.
"Who blocks the path of the soldiers of the Lord of all Carlovain?" called one of the men. Lord Montaigne's Master of Horse, Andrew recognized him. Leader of Montaigne's personal bodyguard, and chief tax collector.
"You are not the King's soldiers." Trevish said. "For I know them all by sight and name."
"We serve the newly chosen Lord Protector of Carlovain, Guy Montaigne of Heslov." the man clarified. "Carlovain has rejoined the Duchy of Burgundy and we are all French citizens once more."
"Then you are rebels and we oppose you." Trevish declared. "For Carlovain is and shall remain forever free."
"So be it." the Master of Horse said, as if he expected nothing less. And he swept his hand in an arc over his head and the men on horses rode at them.
Had they been standing on empty ground, this tactic would have overridden them. But there were large tables, four of them, arrayed in rows with the narrower end pointing at the riders, just in front of the inn. Trevish and the other three jumped up onto these tabletops, and Andrew was quick to follow suit. He was beside Trevish on one table, and the other three were on the table to his left, the two tables on either side empty and bare, forming an additional barrier to be overcome. The tables were on thick legs which had been driven into the ground deeply and thus could never be tipped over, and were just wide enough for both of them to stand at the fore end. To ride at them now meant stopping short and turning the horse, or riding between the tables, to be kept partially at bay by the equally fixed-fast benches between. The advantage of height given by the horses had been canceled out, and indeed the tables offered more flexibility than the horse to their movements. Provided they did not fall off!
Perhaps the men in the lead saw this, but the press of the riders behind prevented them from behaving more sensibly. They rode on into the battle.
Trevish dealt with the rider to their right, and the one to Andrew's left was met with the blade of Adomeh, but the one that sidled up to them sideways at the front was Andrew's foe alone.
Trevish danced down the table a ways, and Andrew had a freer place to stand. The rider was stuck in place on his horse, which stood calmly enough. But he could not maneuver, and had to fight in a side-wise manner. It is quite possible to fight while in the saddle, but the tactics are different and more awkward, and designed either for another on horseback, equally restricted, or a man on the ground, free to move, but lower down and unable to strike well at more than the legs. Andrew and his friends were neither, and both!
So the horse hampered the man's movements, and he could not recover well. Andrew clashed his blade hard against the man's, pushing it forward, and a quick revolution over his head and the second blow took the man at the back of his neck, and now the horse in front of Andrew had no rider.
Andrew turned and saw Adomeh's opponent had slipped off his horse to stand on the bench, and a good fighter; Adomeh was hard-pressed. But the attentions of the rider were on Adomeh, and Andrew did not flinch at the second strike he made, though it was effectively from behind to an unsuspecting man, the assassin's blow. This man fell onto the bench and his horse, bewildered with the inn's closed door before it, stayed where it was and remained as another obstacle.
He turned to barely avoid a blow from the next rider to his fore. Trevish now had two men on horseback to deal with on his side though he had dispatched one already, and the riderless horses formed an additional barrier to their being surrounded.
Andrew as well had a tougher opponent, this man knew enough to turn substantially in the saddle. Andrew clashed blades for several seconds before an opening let him bring up his foot and push the man out of his now-precarious saddle and Andrew grabbed the horse's bridle to hold it in place, another impromptu barrier. But the man now recovered and on foot, was busily tugging it away from the other side. Andrew could not hold for long, but he gasped breath in this brief respite.
Andrew turned and saw Trevish now with only one opponent, but this man was dismounted and standing on the bench with his horse behind. Trevish had a bit of height on the man, but nothing else.
Their blades were locked, and Andrew dared not go to Trevish's aid. Now the men had realized their disability, and horses were being shooed away and men were approaching them on foot. Andrew was facing two men with blades, one horsed and one on the ground, and had his hands full dealing with both. He dared not even lock guards with either, had to resort to a free-wheeling, tiring, constant motion of the sword, and his opponents knew it, were wearing him down rapidly, for a sword is a grievous weight in even strong hands.
"Hi-i-i-i-eeee!" came a loud call and a loud clang! It was his mother's voice, but Andrew dared not look to see what she was doing.
Then five golden sparkles fell in front of him. The five gold pieces his mother had received from Trevish! She had cast them in front of the men, who looked down. Andrew had been taught well by his father to ignore such tactics as this, but these men were poorly paid and the flash of gold tempted them briefly. It was enough. Andrew ran the man on horseback through the rib-cage. He was pulling the sword out, hampered, and the man on foot looked up and the man's blade was coming at Andrew with no way for Andrew to block it without leaving behind his own blade to do so.
"Hi-i-i-i-eee!" and a dark flash collided with the man's skull in mid-swing. Andrew's mother, on the table to his right, had fetched a cook-blackened skillet from her kitchen, and was now wielding it like a club! Of heavy cast iron, it made a crude but serviceable mace; the man went down quick as a steer hammered by the butcher, and his mother called out triumphantly, "For the King!"
"For the King!" Andrew replied, grinning quickly at his mother before turning back.
Bodies were all around them, and the twenty men had become eight. But these were fleeing back to their horses. Andrew jumped down and chased after them along with Trevish and Adomeh, and even with his mother brandishing her skillet, but it was too late, they mounted and rode off.
"They'll bring back more men." Trevish said, panting heavily. "And they know now we have something to hide."
"We must get the King to safety." Edwar agreed.
Andrew's mother was pushing at one of the fallen men, and Andrew wondered why. She moved the body, and said, "Hah! There's the last of them!" She then picked up and displayed one of her gold pieces. "The Church tithe be cursed!" she crowed. "I'm keeping these five for myself!"
"We'll need it." Andrew said soberly. "For we have just lost our inn, when Lord Montaigne learns of what we have done here."
His mother paused to ring a short all-clear on the alarm bell. "Oh, the King will restore our land, when he returns to the throne." his mother said, as if it were of little importance. "Inns are worthless in times of war, anyway, they get turned into soldier's barracks or lord's quarters quicker than anything. I'll get your father to England with me or know the reason why. This bit of money will buy us a start, and my kinfolk will do the rest."
"I have faith in you, mother." Andrew said, grinned.
Andrew's mother was silent, in thought as she regarded the carnage before the inn. As the King stepped up with his father well behind, his mother said. "In fact, what we'll do is shave that beard off the King and he'll travel disguised as you, Andrew." his mother continued. "You travel with these men to make an extra horse. Mount one of them and all of you be off quickly. The King and we shall stay hidden for a day or two here, then we'll make for the coast with him, three poor peasants on the run."
"But we are his guards..." Adomeh protested. "We should stay with him and protect him."
"Feh, soldiers have heads but no brains inside. You would have had him riding with you in a loud noise through the night, telling all who passed clear as sky who you were and what you were doing. I tell you this, if you were Lord Montaigne, which would you chase, five mounted riders on good horses riding swiftly to the east and Lord Dentremon, or a wagon of peasants chugging away to Gull's Port in the west to board one of his own trading sculls? And when we get there, what is more natural than an English woman running from war with her family by going to stay with her relatives in Kent? And it's where we'll go, too."
"But...." Adomeh was overcome by this plan delivered rapid-fire. "Last night we had decided to escort the King by stealth to Lord Dentremon."
"But now that they know he is here--and why else would we all have fought so fiercely?--they can pick him up the easier. Better you four and Andrew travel that route. You can serve him best by laying a false trail for us, for they'll assume the King is with you, his bodyguard, especially with the extra horse Andrew will be riding. Even if they catch you, they'll assume he was with you and got away somehow."
"I...think she's right. A good plan." the King said. "Andrew spotted my noble birth immediately. Anyone else who sees me shall be able to do the same, on a fine horse surrounded by strong men. But riding with an old couple inside a country wagon? They'll not look twice my way."
Trevish said. "Then we will ride east to find Lord Dentremon, and then will ride north with him to the lands still held by Neresterii nobles, and join the loyalist forces which no doubt are already rising up there." He looked at Andrew. "And I would be proud for the King's squire to ride with me."
"You may take my horse, Andrew." the King said. "I must not be seen with such a fine steed as he."
"Then we'd best be off, then, and travel far before those soldiers return. They must find an empty inn to greet them." Trevish said. "And our tracks to follow as well."
The milling left-behind horses of Lord Montaigne were already packed with soldier's provisions that could be scavenged, and so departing was indeed a mere case of doing so, then retrieving and saddling the four guards' horses from the stables, then mounting and riding off.
Andrew looked behind at the three figures most dear to him in his life, his father, standing tall and proud, the King a tall figure at his side, regal even in peasant attire, and his mother, boisterously yelling and waving her farewell in contrast to the more dignified motions of the two men.
"I have never left home before." Andrew said sadly as the inn dropped from view behind the next hill. "Short trips into the village for market or for fetes, but that was all."
"A soldier's life is one of travel." Trevish said. "And you'll find it the only life worth living, for men like us, anyway."
"Indeed, after all, I am my father's son." Andrew agreed, and smiled.
"A brave warrior he." Adomeh said. "But I think your mother has him bested in battle. I would not care to face her fearsome pan of death, even armed with my sword and braced with four-fold mugs of ale." They all laughed.
"I'm sure she has me bested." Trevish agreed. "I'm only worried for Derevan."
"Why is that?" Andrew asked.
"Well, except for myself, and I have paid for it, he's the only one among us who actually laid a hand on her. I fear she may remember it and come looking for you, Derevan."
"It was just a quick prod in her rump, so she'd spill the beer on you." Derevan said. "That ass of hers in my face was too big a temptation to resist."
"Remember well, that when she comes looking for you with pot in hand and blood in her eye," Trevish said, "I, your comrade and boon companion, fully intend to run and hide without striking a blow in your defense."
"And I'll join you there." Andrew said, laughing.
"Yes, you shall." Trevish agreed with a peculiarly soft tone in his voice. "Our horses are now limber enough and exercised, let us now ride fast and far."
And Andrew rode as he had always dreamed, in full gallop in the company of the Royal Guards. The wind in his face, the power of the strong noble horse beneath him, the delight in seeing the countryside stream rapidly past. Yes, the only life for him, indeed!
Several minutes later, he began to wonder. Andrew had ridden horses only rarely, and so he was completely unprepared for the result of the long ride. Not to be delicate about it, his ass had already become bruised and sore, and every joint in his body ached at the jolting it received from every clump of the horse's hooves.
The slower trot to rest the horses was a relief. Andrew winced and shifted in the saddle as best he could.
"Does the King's squire wish an extra blanket under his horse?" Trevish asked him blandly.
Andrew saw no reason to dissemble. "Aye, and a pair of the softest feather pillows." he admitted. "I had said I had rarely left home before, and never have I done so astride a horse."
"It is well you did not lose our bet of yesterday." Trevish laughed. "Or you would be screaming in agony."
"I am nearly ready to do so as it is." Andrew said. "But I shall bear it all for as long as needed."
"You show your bravery here better than you did in the battle." Adomeh chipped in. "A sword-cut is brief yet sharp, but this dull pain shall plague you for days on end."
"And we ride for days on end." Trevish said. "We must make it to Dentremon's house by this nightfall, and thence to the north. I think the Neresterii lords will gather at Castle Tiresval to muster their forces."
"A good choice, seeing that it was the one fortress Phillippe I could not take in battle, but needs must gain by the treaty of peace." Derevan said.
"Nay, I feel it had always been his plan to leave the Neresterii nobility intact." Edwar said. "Else, how could he have turned to immediately dispute with the Duke of Burgundy and take this land for himself and his men alone?"
"Ah, but the Duke of Burgundy had his hands full already, with rebellions in the Lowlands and that upstart French witch drawing off his forces to help fight the English. And it suited the new French King to support us after they betrayed the witch into English hands."
"Witch?" Andrew asked.
"Jehane D'Arc." Trevish explained. "What else but a witch could command forces like a man and succeed in battle where they failed? But it was good she was, for it gained us our freedom from the Duke of Burgundy."
"I thought we travel the path we do as the result of a woman's command." Edwar guffawed.
"True, but she is a bitch, and that is close cousin to a witch. Note the sounds are even similar." Trevish returned.
"Haven't you paid my mother enough gold?" Andrew settled for saying.
"Ah, your mother is a bitch, but she's a bitch on our side and protecting the King." Trevish grinned. "And for my money, that is worth more than three generals in full armor standing there."
"Or four gambling souses that don't know better than to paw old women in taverns." Andrew pointed out.
There was a silence and he wondered if he had gone too far. But then the laughs began.
"Fair enough, lad." Adomeh said. "You'll not hear another word of scorn from us about your mother."
"That is all I ask, save your company."
"The horses are rested enough." Adomeh said. He seemed to be their group leader. "Andrew, you will find some respite by resting more weight on your stirrups and sitting more erect, nearly standing on the horse. But it works well only so long as the road is smooth and even and your only real cure is the toughening of the muscles that comes with long practice. Let us ride!"
Andrew groaned as his buttocks were again bashed. But he kept up just the same.
His entire body ached by the end of the day, when Lord Dentremon's house came into view. A large, regal building with tall turrets, it was a beautiful sight. Andrew's main emotion upon seeing it, though, was of utter relief. At last he could get off this damned horse and rest.
The house was surrounded by a ten-foot-tall stone wall at which soldiers stood. "Who goes there?" came the call.
"Lord Dentremon can identify us." Adomeh returned. "Ask him if he remembers Adomeh, son of Corion?"
A pause of nearly a minute, then the gate opened for them, two wide doors swinging wide, ten feet tall of themselves with a four-foot tall squarish segment of wall atop them.
Lord Dentremon met them at the front steps of the house, a frail, elderly man in a chair flanked by two tall, thinnish men. Andrew's instincts had been honed by many years of helping his family keep bar and serving every kind of customer. He didn't like these two guardians of the Lord.
"Ah, Adomeh." the man croaked. "Forgive me for not rising to meet you. How is your father?"
"Well when we last spoke a year ago, my Lord." Adomeh said. Andrew was amazed at the transformation, the brutish hulk of royal guard had become a gentleman. Andrew cast quick eyes on his comrades and saw them each assuming the same personna. He had no such ability, and could only watch and attempt to imitate.
"My Lord, allow me to present my comrades." Adomeh named them one by one, and Andrew watched rather than listening. Each, as he was introduced, bowed and stepped forward to kiss the old lord's hand. So he had this much to go on.
"And this young lad is Andrew, son of Falin, and squire to King Phillippe V." Adomeh concluded.
"The King has taken a squire." Lord Dentremon sounded impressed. "And I had wondered why you held his name to the honored last position." he smiled.
Andrew stepped forward. "My Lord." he said and kissed the hand.
"Is your father the Falin whom I once knew, Master Swordsman of the Royal Guard?"
"Yes, my Lord." Andrew said. "I hope to one day possess a tenth of his legendary skill."
"Why, I once held you on my knee as a babe." Lord Dentremon said. "Welcome to my home."
"Andrew is no mean swordsman himself." Adomeh said. "I owe my very life to his quick intervention."
"It was nothing." Andrew flushed. "A cowardly blow from behind in the thick of battle."
But the Lord was uninterested in the age-old game of praise and dismissal. "You call yourself Andrew, the English pronunciation?" he observed. "Not Andre?"
"Yes, my Lord, my mother is of English blood and I am named for her father."
"Yes, the English." Lord Dentremon said. "We must call upon their help in the days ahead, if they will come. They court the alliance of the Grand Duchy of Burgundy, but Carlovain occupies an equally strategic location between France and the German Empire."
"You must rest now, my father." one of the two men said.
"Yes, of course." the Lord replied. "These are bad days in which to be living out my dotage. But I stay here and will remain here, a way-station to the north, for as long as I can. You may rest here before making your way north, but I do not suggest you dally overlong."
"We shall rest here a day, I think." Adomeh said. "And then ride forth. Our haste today has wearied us, for we were deep within Lord Montaigne's lands this very morning."
"You are welcome." Lord Dentremon said.
"Father, you should rest." the man persisted.
"Yes, Marcel, I am coming." the old Lord said and his sons helped him to stand up, though he remained bowed over even at his full stance. "Have you any word of the King?" he asked. "All our struggle is for nothing if he is in the hands of Lord Montaigne."
"The King is alive and well, and safely in the hands of loyalists who will help him escape." Adomeh said. "We dare not say more."
"I heard the King was captured this very morning." the other of Lord Montaigne's son said. "We had heard that Lord Montaigne learned of his planned path of escape and was riding to capture him."
"I can assure you that he was not." Adomeh said. "For we were with him this very morning and our swords drove off the rebel Lord's attempt to capture him."
"Indeed." the man was impressed. "You drove off a squad of twenty men with this small number."
"Twenty are nothing, against five of the Royal Guard." Trevish said.
"Four, you mean." the young man sniffed. "Squires are not yet in the Guard."
"If you had seen Andrew's sword at work, you would know it for the mere technicality it is." Trevish persisted.
"Then we shall cross swords on the morrow." the man said, smiling.
"Jean, you shall not duel our guests." Lord Dentremon said sternly.
"I only offered a game." Jean returned, again with the smile. "But a mere squire would be beneath my station, so I withdraw the offer. Come, father, you should lie down now. There will be no more refugees from Heslov to identify."
Andrew kept quiet until the old man was taken in and they were alone on the front steps. "That arrogant young ass." he muttered when it was safe to say so.
"Let us find our rest and you can face him on the morrow." Adomeh said. "A ride such as today's wearied me, and you must be exhausted from the way you move."
"I am tired." Andrew agreed.
"This way, if you please." a voice said from behind them. "We have quarters you can use."
Andrew was somewhat surprised to see they were not taken into the large house, but led to a smaller group of houses behind. They were somewhat near the stables, but men were busily at work inside the horse-stuffed building, and no odor escaped to offend the nostrils.
"These quarters are to the west of the house." Trevish protested. "This is lodging for those who are not friends of the Lord."
"We are forced to use all lodging in this time." the servant said quickly. "No offense is intended. Please, enter and I shall have food taken in to you."
They were shown to a room with three large beds, shuttered off from each other by walls but all open to the common room, which held a table and chairs. "I may need to bring another in, if you will permit." the servant dithered. "But rest here and food will be brought soon."
Andrew saw the bed and all thought of food vanished, he had eaten as the others had, fishing into their saddle bags for bits of food while they rode. He was not hungry, and he was sore and sleepy.
"Remove your clothing before you enter the bed." Adomeh stopped him in mid-flight. "Do not soil the bedclothes with your stained garments."
Andrew stopped, abashed. "You are right. My apologies."
Nothing prevented the men at their chairs from seeing him, and they frankly watched him. Andrew was reminded of his strip-tease for the King, not that he engaged in such taunting movements, but still their eyes and the memory left him with a strong erection. He fig-leafed himself by turning away to remove his trousers, and began to move toward the bed.
"Hold, Andrew." Adomeh said.
"Yes?" Andrew said, one knee on the bed.
"Would you deny your comrades their natural curiosity?" Adomeh said. "It is in all our minds of your tryst last night, and we wonder about the staff which impaled the impetuous Trevish."
"And rightfully so." Edwar said.
"I did notice he was sitting rather gingerly this day." Derevan chipped in.
"I can see just enough to know that if you will turn now, we will satisfy our curiosity fully." Adomeh said. "Would you be so kind as to turn this way briefly? Once we look, we shall not intrude upon you further."
Andrew hesitated, and then stood back up and turned.
"You can see why I winced at the saddle's touch this day." Trevish said, quite unembarassed.
"I marvel that you can walk at all." Edwar said.
"If you had seen this tool ere your taunting of his mother." Derevan mused. "You would not have dared laid a hand upon her, no matter his skill with a sword."
Andrew blushed and got the rest of the way into bed, covered himself, lay back. "Ahh!" he said as his back no long had to support his upper body, his legs no longer had to support his weight. "I shall not rest well, I fear." he said. "I've had such pains from my labor, and they have always declared themselves in the midnight with tossing about and sleeplessness until dawn."
"You wish that bed for yourself alone!" Trevish said in mock-offense. "Nay, the bed alone should be for Adomeh, so he may turn as he would. I will settle for a half-night of undisturbed repose rather than one of night-long distractions."
"Then you shall sleep with Andrew." Adomeh said. "And may he collect another installment of his debt of honor from you."
"I would face that as well before I lie next to you." Trevish said. "For your sleep is of a wandering and boisterous nature."
"Then I shall abet your repose by ministering to the lad." Adomeh said. "Have I not soothed many a battle-wearied spirit before with my touch?"
"Indeed you have." Trevish said. "And watching you astride his young body shall entertain us as we sup."
"What do you offer?" Andrew asked, startled. He was willing enough, but....
"I but offer to work upon and rub your muscles with my hands, so that they lose their stiffness." Adomeh said. "It is a part of the Guard's training, as you will soon learn."
"Ah." Andrew understood. His father had concluded many of his rougher trainings by this method, massaging away the soreness. "I would be grateful then for your aid, for my body is sore bruised in diverse places."
"We shall see when you are rested in what manner your gratitude may repay me." Adomeh smiled. "But whatever that may be, it shall be your choice entire."
Andrew grinned back at him, for this brief, if uncomfortable, exchange had reassured him greatly. "I am my father's son, and that is Neresterii." he responded.
"Remove the covers and turn upon your back." Adomeh said, removing his tunic. Andrew took off his covers and looked at Adomeh's body, broad shoulders, pectorals like twin plates, abs like stacked boxes, all of it covered in a surprisingly light dusting of hair. Adomeh flexed his arms and fingers, then interlocked them and extended his arms, cracking the knuckles in a burst of noise, then rubbed his palms together briskly. "You needs must turn, if I am to rub your back. If you wish to remain in this position, I can rub other parts of your body."
Andrew chuckled and turned over as requested and the bed bucked alarmingly as Adomeh clambered atop him, then grunted as Adomeh's body landed atop his albeit gently. "Agh!" he protested.
"Your legs are sore." Adomeh observed. "But we'll begin with the back, which is the center of all pain." Adomeh's hands played over Andrew's body with the familiar adeptness of his father, and his back relaxed almost as the hands touched, releasing their tautness. "Good, we have caught it early." Adomeh said. "You will be right as rain by tomorrow, then you can give that young Lord Jean Dentremon his comeuppance if you wish. I'm told he leads with his blade always turned to the left, it surprises me that his throat hasn't been slit ere now. Now, let's work on the legs, and we'll finish up with a gentle rubbing of your buttocks."
Adomeh's hands squeezed Andrew's left thigh and Andrew grunted again. But Adomeh persisted even though this time Andrew groaned with every prodding finger. Eventually, the muscles gave way and Andrew felt the hands on his buttocks, one in each hand. "Now for the final work. These little body cushions of yours need a good shaking up." he jiggled Andrew's buttocks lively. "Ah, that's the way to move them around!" he said jocularly.
Then he began to rub Andrew again, this time the touches were light and exciting. "Now a little stimulation to reawaken the tired muscles, and we'll be ready to eat, if that servant will ever bring it up here."
Adomeh scooted up and rubbed Andrew's shoulders now, and Andrew felt Adomeh's hard prod nestling between his ass-cheeks. "That's done the trick, hasn't it, boy?" he said softly. "Did your father do this for you after your practice?"
"Yes, sir." Andrew said.
"Of course, you're supposed to take off your own clothes to give a proper massage." Adomeh ventured.
"So take them off." Andrew said.
"Hah!" Adomeh said loudly. "What did I tell you! The lad's a born member of the Royal Guard!" he said as he clambered off and Andrew heard the rustle of Adomeh's trousers going off.
"I could have told you that this morning." Trevish said. They had been long silent, those other three. "Or last night, in fact."
"You didn't give your virginity to Trevish, did you, lad?" Adomeh said as he returned to his position astride Andrew, and now Andrew felt the turgid lump of flesh pushing between his buttocks, not insistently, but resting there as Adomeh resumed his gentle play of fingers and hands over Andrew's body.
"Nay." Andrew said. "But there was no opportunity, for it was gone before then."
"Well, lad, if you are restored to vitality, may a fellow Guardsman take his share of pleasure with you?"
"Now?" Andrew was startled. They were in clear view of the others.
"And why not?" Adomeh said. "You'll be witnessing enough of the same in the barracks. Royal Guardsmen are always Neresterii, and we know well the bond that comes with the sharing of food and drink at table, the sharing of blood in battle, and the sharing of the flesh in bed. You've shared the other two, let us share the third now."
"We three shall move to one of the other beds while you celebrate Andrew's addition to our ranks." Edwar said. "I think it is yet too soon for Andrew to share with all of us at once. Let us join with him one at a time until he is comfortable with all."
"A good idea." Adomeh said. After a short time, "Well, lad, the observers are gone to their own bed. What say you now?"
Andrew responded by wriggling his buttocks against Adomeh's cock.
"Ah, now that's the motion of a true-born Guardsman." Adomeh approved and his cock swelled into hard firmness. "Just let me rise up and get it some lubrication before I plow my furrow between these firm mounds of yours.
Adomeh hawked and spit noisily though not a bit of moistness hit Andrew's back. He listened to this and his stomach fluttered. The time with the King had been a time of romantic discovery lit and softened by his awakening desires, the time with Trevish had been like an incubus coming in a dream, but now, here, in the light of the still-setting sun, he was about to be mounted without the trappings or comfort of either. This was simple male-to-male rutting, pre-planned and done with eyes wide open. This was....
Adomeh's cock pressed into Andrew's anus and Andrew gasped. This was good, even without the aid of self-delusion. Adomeh lay down upon Andrew and Andrew felt the massive body atop his own, stroking his rib-cage, the big muscles moving like living things atop his back, pulsing, while Adomeh's breath whispered upon his neck and stirred the hairs of his head.
Adomeh pressed harder, and his cock-head slid into Andrew. "Ah, Squire of the King, welcome to our ranks." he said, sighing. "And thank you for this gift of your body to me. I pray that you will take in return my own when I am done."
And Adomeh pushed in even further. How big was Adomeh, how long? Andrew had had no chance to look. But he was not being torn by the organ, though it felt as big as the King's, it was sliding upon its wrapping of Adomeh's saliva quite easily into Andrew's bowels.
The cockhead touched Andrew's prostate, and it was a discharge of electricity that raced up his back and into his brain. "Ah!" Andrew said.
"Is there pain, my friend?" Adomeh said.
"Nay, I beg you for more like that." Andrew panted, his breath suddenly taken from him with that one shock. "More, please!"
There were the grunts from the bed furthest from them, as Trevish took his pleasure with the two brothers. Andrew wondered idly if Edwar and Derevan would couple, or if they shared Trevish between them without touching? Well, he could learn later....
Adomeh pushed in again, and another thrill of blue-white desire pulsed through Andrew. "There, that's the entirety of it, comrade." he said, while his body rippled upon Andrew's back. "Have you still any pain from the long ride?"
"Nay, you have removed it well." Andrew said. "Pray, proceed with all haste, for I burn with hunger for your thrusts into me."
"Ah!" Adomeh said as he pulled back out and slid it in again, gentle, even movements that were as slow and deliberate as waves marching toward the beach, which were Andrew's earliest memory, just that and nothing more to frame them or give them reference, the blue waves moving towards him to crash at his feet and legs, and wrap around his body with that oh-so-pleasant surge at his groin as the water slid into his shorts, only to withdraw again with a slight sucking motion that moved him slowly, each wave taking him into its embrace more and more, until his mother had come up and rescued him before he was washed out to sea. That was the end of the memory, his mother's arms taking him up.
Now the waves were within and around him again, this time they were in solid form that pinioned him beneath itself while the stroking ripples now had fingers to touch him even more particularly.
Adomeh's chin came down to rest upon his shoulder and Adomeh used that point of contact to move his body more tautly and the thrusts into Andrew's ass speeded up.
Andrew knew now why they called sexual intercourse "being ridden" for he was again buffeted by the motions like that of the horse, but now he was the mount being used for the pleasures of the rider, and his only recourse was to obey and to enjoy as he could the grip of his master.
Adomeh pulled his hands under Andrew's ribcage and over his breasts, and Andrew was caught by his shoulder blades from beneath with the hands that reached up to cup them and hold them, and Adomeh now gave full reign to the thrusts.
His ass was being pounded by Adomeh's drilling pole of manhood, Adomeh humped and thrust at him hard, and only the thrill that raced through Andrew's body with each thrust kept this from being painful or demeaning, with that pleasure, he was partner and comrade to this big, frenetically pumping man atop him, he was giving his body and receiving pleasure in return.
Andrew felt the thick prong heat and Adomeh's gasps of air became vocal. "Huh! Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh!" came the discrete grunts in Andrew's ear.
That made the pleasure more intense, the sounds adding to the jolts of lightning-borne desire that filled his body with each movement, and Andrew groaned, was borne up in the sea that now surrounded and covered him, and the sea was pleasure and the sea was one with him and he was afloat and adrift and lost without caring.
In this manner orgasm came to Andrew, not as a thief but as a part of his entire body, coalescing into a new form that filled his insides as water does a waterskin, until he bulged in all directions with it and he groaned, his face heated with the power of the climax, and Adomeh's groans became louder and torn from the very depths of his soul, and they resonated within Andrew with his own.
"Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh!"
"Oh!" Andrew sang in contrapunctual rhythm. "Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!"
"Uh, uh, ahh! Ah! Ah-hah!"
"Oh, hu-oh, oh, oh, ooooohhhh!"
"Huh, huh, N-GERRKKK!"
"Oh, oh, Oh, OH, OH-AH-HAHHH!"
And Andrew was thrashing, lost beneath this large man that contorted and clutched him tightly. Andrew felt Adomeh's seed pouring into him in a hot, stinging flood of power, felt his own seed as suddenly-hot, then suddenly-cold moisture beneath his own body, until his cock was coated and sticky beneath him, Adomeh's hard thumping motions moving Andrew about bodily below him.
Done, they lay in a limp, wet mass, Andrew hardly able to establish where his own body lay and where Adomeh's was, and they recovered as shipwrecked sailors on a shore lay in the surf's very edge, wet, heedless of anything save that now they can rest safely, for the water has now been left behind, save as a brief reach of moisture now and again.
There came a knock at their door. "Sirs? Sirs?" came the female voice.
Adomeh was up like a shot, and grabbed his pants. "Stay where you are and rest." he told Andrew.
"Faith, I could not move should I wished to." Andrew returned. "You have worn me out entire."
And the moans from nearby warned that Adomeh was alone in his ability to move just now.
Adomeh pulled on his tunic hastily and answered the door. "Your dinners, sir." the woman said, bringing the large tray inside.
"Ah, food!" Adomeh said. "I shall take the tray and you may return for it in a half-hour." he said. "My comrades are...not in a state to be seen just now. They're indisposed."
"Yes, sir." the woman said, for the groans and gasps from nearby made it clear the exact state of their indisposition. "Eat heartily, sir. And the wine is a special gift from the Lord's cellars, to drink the King's health for the good news you have brought of his safety."
"Thank you, milady, now if you'll pardon me." Adomeh took the tray in one beefy hand and closed the door in her face rather hastily for manners.
"Ah, food, hot from the fires." he said. "Come, Andrew, eat with me while those pigs finish rutting."
"I truly am not hungry." Andrew said. His muscles, which had relaxed under Adomeh's ministrations, had begun to announce their presence again, not angrily, but enough to make not moving more desirable than the food. "Pray, eat well, my comrade."
Andrew made shift to move onto his back again, and lay as he was, uncovered and sticky with his jism, watching with satisfied eyes as his comrades and lovers ate heartily. He should have risen to join with the drink at the end, but his eyes were heavy and he slept before he could think further of his duty. He did not even awaken fully when Trevish joined him later and covered them both up.
END OF CHAPTER FOUR