Lord of Misrule
T HE crowd surrounding the battlefield broke into applause as Edric Bearsbane defeated his opponent with a crashing blow. Konrad the Bohemian fell and the marshal raised his stave into the air, signaling the end of the bout as the herald announced the winner. Edric pulled off his helmet, ran a hand through his sweat-drenched hair, and waved a triumphant arm at Keegan Arey, who was standing at the sidelines. Edric’s face split into a triumphant grin, and Keegan grinned back as Edric strode toward the royal pavilion.
“Your Excellency, the champion,” announced the herald.
Edric knelt and bowed his head. He was glad of the shade, a welcome respite from the heat of sun and battle, and the green scent of the oak trees surrounding the glade was invigorating.
Duchess Alicia di Fiorenza smiled as she rose and took the wreath from the lady-in-waiting at her side. “For your prowess on the field of battle and for your service to the crown these many years, I hereby award you, Edric Bearsbane, the duties of Lady’s Champion until next autumn’s tournament. Well done.” She settled the circlet of flowers on Edric’s head and offered him her hand to kiss as the crowd cheered again.
“I accept with gratitude and vow to uphold my duties and your honor, and the honor of any persons you choose me to represent on the field,” he replied.
She nodded, and her attention shifted from him back to the field. He could hear the next pair of combatants entering the ring, preparing for battle, and the crowd’s attention turned to them instead. Edric rose slowly, assisted by one of the marshals, while the herald announced the new fighters, and he paused to watch as they saluted first their patrons and then each other. He leaned more of his weight than he liked on the aide’s shoulder, wincing but trying not to show that he was favoring his left leg as they headed to the red-bannered chirurgeon’s tent. His desire to haul his heavy armor over his head and plunge his face into a bucket of water eclipsed the feeling of triumph from a moment ago. After that, he would see what the physician had to say about his knee.
Keegan was waiting outside the tent, his brow furrowed as he took in the pained lines of Edric’s face and the stiffness of his gait. “Thank you, Marshal, I will assist him from here,” he said, wrapping a strong arm around Edric’s waist and helping him inside to a bench.
“Where’s my kiss?” demanded Edric, twisting sideways to claim his prize before it could be given freely.
Keegan submitted for a moment and then pushed him away. “What did you do to your knee, you enormous oaf? Did you leave your brace at home again?”
Edric shrugged. “I remembered it about halfway here, but it was too late to go back and get it. I’m sure it’s fine, I have my kneepads. If you’ll help me get my gear off, you can see for yourself.”
“And I’m sure you have no other reason for me to get you undressed,” Keegan said with a snort but obligingly began pulling off Edric’s boots, unbuckling his armor, and unlacing his thickly padded gambeson, until the big man was left in nothing but the sweat-drenched hose that clung to his body. “Shall I disrobe as well, my lord, so I may assist you in the bath?” Keegan teased.
“While I wish for nothing more,” Edric answered, a gleam in his eyes and a bulge forming in his pants, “I fear we lack enough privacy.”
“Damned right you do,” said a voice outside the tent. “Wash off some of that sweat, Edric, and let me know when it’s safe to come in and check you out. You two can cavort in your own tent after the feast tonight. I hope to God you’ve set it up far away from the rest of us.”
“Doubtlessly not far enough,” Edric answered the physician. “I wonder if there is some way to soundproof a pavilion. I fear everyone has heard me ravishing my Keegan.”
There was a noise of amused disgust. “Indeed, my lord. And he ravishing you
T HE crowd surrounding the battlefield broke into applause as Edric Bearsbane defeated his opponent with a crashing blow. Konrad the Bohemian fell and the marshal raised his stave into the air, signaling the end of the bout as the herald announced the winner. Edric pulled off his helmet, ran a hand through his sweat-drenched hair, and waved a triumphant arm at Keegan Arey, who was standing at the sidelines. Edric’s face split into a triumphant grin, and Keegan grinned back as Edric strode toward the royal pavilion.
“Your Excellency, the champion,” announced the herald.
Edric knelt and bowed his head. He was glad of the shade, a welcome respite from the heat of sun and battle, and the green scent of the oak trees surrounding the glade was invigorating.
Duchess Alicia di Fiorenza smiled as she rose and took the wreath from the lady-in-waiting at her side. “For your prowess on the field of battle and for your service to the crown these many years, I hereby award you, Edric Bearsbane, the duties of Lady’s Champion until next autumn’s tournament. Well done.” She settled the circlet of flowers on Edric’s head and offered him her hand to kiss as the crowd cheered again.
“I accept with gratitude and vow to uphold my duties and your honor, and the honor of any persons you choose me to represent on the field,” he replied.
She nodded, and her attention shifted from him back to the field. He could hear the next pair of combatants entering the ring, preparing for battle, and the crowd’s attention turned to them instead. Edric rose slowly, assisted by one of the marshals, while the herald announced the new fighters, and he paused to watch as they saluted first their patrons and then each other. He leaned more of his weight than he liked on the aide’s shoulder, wincing but trying not to show that he was favoring his left leg as they headed to the red-bannered chirurgeon’s tent. His desire to haul his heavy armor over his head and plunge his face into a bucket of water eclipsed the feeling of triumph from a moment ago. After that, he would see what the physician had to say about his knee.
Keegan was waiting outside the tent, his brow furrowed as he took in the pained lines of Edric’s face and the stiffness of his gait. “Thank you, Marshal, I will assist him from here,” he said, wrapping a strong arm around Edric’s waist and helping him inside to a bench.
“Where’s my kiss?” demanded Edric, twisting sideways to claim his prize before it could be given freely.
Keegan submitted for a moment and then pushed him away. “What did you do to your knee, you enormous oaf? Did you leave your brace at home again?”
Edric shrugged. “I remembered it about halfway here, but it was too late to go back and get it. I’m sure it’s fine, I have my kneepads. If you’ll help me get my gear off, you can see for yourself.”
“And I’m sure you have no other reason for me to get you undressed,” Keegan said with a snort but obligingly began pulling off Edric’s boots, unbuckling his armor, and unlacing his thickly padded gambeson, until the big man was left in nothing but the sweat-drenched hose that clung to his body. “Shall I disrobe as well, my lord, so I may assist you in the bath?” Keegan teased.
“While I wish for nothing more,” Edric answered, a gleam in his eyes and a bulge forming in his pants, “I fear we lack enough privacy.”
“Damned right you do,” said a voice outside the tent. “Wash off some of that sweat, Edric, and let me know when it’s safe to come in and check you out. You two can cavort in your own tent after the feast tonight. I hope to God you’ve set it up far away from the rest of us.”
“Doubtlessly not far enough,” Edric answered the physician. “I wonder if there is some way to soundproof a pavilion. I fear everyone has heard me ravishing my Keegan.”
There was a noise of amused disgust. “Indeed, my lord. And he ravishing you
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