Date: Mon, 6 Oct 2003 14:44:43 -0700 (PDT)
From: rimpigfl <rimpigfl@yahoo.com>
Subject: THE YOUNG KNIGHT 1

"In days of old, when knights were bold..." began a rather bawdy chant I
learned as a child. But Knights were nothing to laugh or sneer at! They
were a boyhood fantasy full of horses, battles, swords and courage. I
suppose part of what I love about Marines is what I love about knights. I
must admit that even as a lover of peace, I am strongly attracted to
warriors.

This story is dedicated to the real Nicholas.

THE YOUNG KNIGHT
by RimPig  (c) 2003

Chapter I

The young knight stood on the battlement of Baden Castle looking out over
the planted fields and to the hills beyond. He tall body was a mass of
muscle and sinew belying his youth. Long had he spent with his weapon's
trainer learning the fine arts of war to which he would one day be called.
Long had he trained in running and sword play until his body was honed to a
level of deadly precision.

His long dark hair and eyes were contrasts to his pale skin. Those eyes
were almost hypnotic when turned on you. Many was the young maid who all
but swooned when caught in their sway.  This reaction only met with
confusion for him, however, as he had no inkling of the devastating effect
he had on others, particularly those of the fairer sex. This confusion came
partly from the fact that he showed little interest in females. He realized
that he might be called on to make a advantageous alliance one day but that
was beyond his power to control.

This is not to say that he took any particular interest in other males
either, some of whom were equally entranced by his enchanting eyes and
stunning good looks. For now, what mattered to him was his own dedication
to his oath as a knight, to serve and to honor his Lord and be the weapon
that he had been so expertly trained to be. Pleasures of the flesh were not
something he sought.  Indeed he knew little of them but he would soon
learn.

But I race ahead of myself.

I should introduce myself. I am Robby, squire to my Lord Sir Nicholas of
Baden, the aforementioned knight. At this time, I had been in my Lord's
service ever since he had been knighted at the time of the Autumnal Equinox
two autumns past. Now on this Michaelmas eve, I approached him on the
battlements, bearing his fur-lined cloak as it had grown cold and I did not
want him to risk a chill. Though he is young and strong, being only twenty
summers, the specter of strange maladies often arises at this time in the
land and it is part of my duties to see that my young Lord does not fall
victim to any of them.

I am lucky, at only sixteen summers myself, to serve such a high-born young
Lord. 'Tis true that my father's line is an ancient and venerable one but
my family had fallen on hard times during my grand-sire's life and had not
recovered during my father's. It was only because of the boyhood friendship
between the King and my father that I was given this opportunity. As Sir
Nicholas's squire I was in training to be knighted myself but I would spend
my life in service to a great Lord.  Sir Nicholas was destined to be one of
those. I hoped, with all my heart, that I would have the opportunity to
serve him for all my life.

"My Lord." I approached my silent knight. "The night air grows chill, my
Lord. I have brought your cloak." I said, placing the heavy garment around
his broad, strong shoulders.

"Thank you, Robby." he said, smiling at me. "But how many times have I bid
you to call me Nicholas when we are alone, my friend?"

A thrill went through me at this. It was a combination of his warm smile
which was echoed in warmth from his eyes and his calling me his friend. It
was so hard to think of myself as a friend of one so highborn, so
courageous and so much a model of everything a knight should be. I felt
that, other than my service, I had so little to offer such a friendship.

"Forgive me, Nicholas." I said. "It is so hard for me to grasp the idea
that you want me as a friend."

"Do you not care for me, Robby? Do I not measure well enough to be your
friend?" he said, grinning.

"No! My Lord! It is I who am unworthy of such familiarity with you!" I
bowed low before him, shocked that he would take my answer this way.

"Robby. Robby!" he said, reaching out his large hand and ruffling my
hair. "I am but jesting with you! Stop all the bowing. I am not our Lord
and Savior. I don't need obeisance from you, my friend."

I rose and looked at him and he smiled again.

"Robby, do you think there will be war with Essex this time?" he asked,
throwing his arm and part of his warm cloak about my shoulders and looking
back out over the battlements.

"I...I do not know, Nicholas. One hears rumors of it but who is to know?"

I could barely get the words out of my mouth. This easy affection he showed
me was more than a little disconcerting to me. My feelings and my emotions
where Nicholas was concerned were very confused at this point in my life. I
worshiped him as a hero but there were deeper feelings that I had for him
which I could not understand nor could I describe them. Had anyone told me
what they were at that time, I probably would have run to the nearest
monastery and buried myself in a life of solitude and penance! I would soon
learn as well.

But, again, I am beyond myself.

"I am very ashamed to say that I hope there is war, Robby." Nicholas said.

"Why are you ashamed of that?" I asked.

"Because, Robby, war is an evil thing. It causes the needless death of many
men and usually solves little. It is not something that should ever be
desired." he said.

"Then why do you desire it?" I asked, confused by all of this.

"Because, Robby, I am eager to face it finally. I have trained for it most
of my life. I have been knighted to be of protection for these lands of my
father's, but I have never had to protect anything! I've never had my
mettle tested in the heat of battle. I think myself ready, but how can I
know until I actually engage in the life and death struggle that I have
been trained for?" he said.

He did not look at me as he said this. It was my impression that he did not
seek my counsel about this, only my willing ears. He had those. I could sit
and listen to him as his deep voice rolled over me for hours. I had not the
intelligence nor education that he had but whatever he chose to share with
me, I was always eager to listen to.

"You know we will have to face it eventually, Nicholas. I must confess to
you, however, that I am not so eager for that day. I would gladly go all my
life without war, gladly see this land at peace for all time." I told
him. "Please don't think me a coward, Nicholas, but I don't want to see men
die. I don't want to see you put in peril."

He turned to face me, his face filled with a gentle smile for me.

"I do not think you a coward, Robby! You are a far better man than I
because of your more tender heart, my friend. I would not see you in peril,
either. You are too precious to me to risk.  How could I live without my
friend? Why, I don't even have enough sense to go and get a cloak when it
is cold! Without you, I would be a sorry sight!" he grinned at me.

I started to protest but he brought his finger and placed it against my
lips to silence me. I said not a word and then he did the most curious
thing. He pulled me closer to him and leaned down a gently kissed me on the
cheek! As he drew me close, I became very aware of the scent of him and it
sent thrills through my body for reasons that I could not understand. Nor
could I understand the sharp, delicious tremor that went through me at the
touch of his lips to my cheek. There was an aching in my chest and I feared
that I might embarrass myself completely by fainting like a swooning maid!

"You have such a beautiful soul, Robby. I know that you love me and that
love is very precious to me. I had neither brothers or sisters, but if I
had, I could not feel any closer to them than I feel to you. I love you,
Robby, as if you were my brother - and perhaps even more."

His deep voice was soft and low as he said these things to me. My heart
leapt in my breast at his words and my guts clenched in a sudden need which
I could feel but I knew not what for. I only knew that in that moment, deep
inside me, I made a vow that I would love Nicholas for all of my life and
even offer my own life to protect his.

"Though I do not really see that I can be, I will always strive to be
worthy of your love, Nicholas." I swore to him.

"You are already that, Robby. It is I who must work on being worthy of the
love and devotion that you show to me. Perhaps that is why I seek
battle. To finally prove myself worthy of what you feel for me." Nicholas
said.

"Then there is no need of war or battle for you have no need of proving
anything to me. You already have my love and devotion - and always will." I
promised him.

Not knowing what else to do, I reached out and took his hand and kissed
it. He pulled me close to him once more and just held me. I felt a
happiness that I had never before known and wanted to just spend the rest
of my life, my lips pressed to the back of his hand and his arm around me
holding me close to him.

But all things pass and so did this moment. Nicholas let me go and removed
his hand from mine. I looked up at him and he again smiled at me.

"I think that the evening meal must be ready for I have such hunger that I
could almost faint!"  Nicholas grinned.

"That was what I was supposed to tell you when I came up here. Your father
bids you to join him at the high table this night." I told him.

"For what reason, I wonder does he need his son beside him and not among
his knights as usual?"  Nicholas mused.

"I know not. Perhaps there has been news concerning Essex and your father
seeks your counsel."  I said.

"I doubt sincerely that my father is at all interested in my counsel on
anything, my friend. But, let's go down and see what the old lion wants!"
he laughed.

The main hall of the castle was a large and drafty place, despite the two
large fireplaces at each end . Above these were the heraldic shields of the
Duke's house and covering the walls were large tapestries which depicted
important battles in which the Duke's ancestors were victorious. Below the
tapestries were rows of trestle tables where the members of the castle
staff ate and a head table on a raised dias against one wall which allowed
the favored guests and the Duke's family to eat above the chatter and noise
of their retainers. Nicholas, although the Duke's son, usually chose to eat
among the other knights of his father's retinue. Tonight however, he sat
beside his father and looked less than happy at the apparent honor.

As usual I ate with the rest of the squires that night. It was not part of
my duties to service Nicholas at table. There were younger boys and maids
for serving the many knight retainers and there were older servants to
serve the head table where Nicholas sat with his father. I occasionally
glanced up at the head table, trying to see what transpired between
Nicholas and his father, the Duke. Once, when I did so, Nicholas was
staring at me and slowly winked at me. I don't know why, but I found myself
blushing at this easy familiarity. Later, however, Nicholas and his father
seemed to be in some discussion which was somewhat acrimonious. I could see
Nicholas's face and it was red and contorted as if he barely held his anger
in check. His father was looking stern and, while I could not hear his
words, his voice was obviously raised. He issued some edict to his son and
then dismissively turned from his son to his Captain of the Guard who sat
on his other side.

As I watched the interplay between father and son, I was again intrigued by
the similarities in them. There was no doubt that they were father and son
for indeed the older looked merely a more mature version of the younger. I
understood Nicholas calling his father "the old lion" for he could well be
a young lion himself. Each had the same, thick mane of dark hair, though
the Duke's now was traced with silver as well. Both had the same striking
profile and dark, flashing eyes. Both were equally stubborn and obstinate
and given to rages. And though the Duke was older and heavier, the same
strength of body and broad shoulders showed in each. The breeding here was
true. Nicholas was his father's son and they were so very much
alike. Perhaps this was part of the difficulty between them. Each too
stubborn to bend, both too proud to give in to the other.

As soon as dinner was over, I rushed to Nicholas's rooms to see of what
service I could be to him but more importantly to find out what had
transpired between him and his father during the meal.  While there were
sleeping quarters assigned to me in the wing with the other squires and
pages, I never used them. Since coming into Nicholas's service, he had
allowed me to share his quarters with him. Nicholas did not have just a
single room as did most young knights. Because he was the Duke's son,
Nicholas had a suite of rooms which he had occupied since he was a
child. There was a room for relaxation with couches and a table with chairs
beyond which was a bed-chamber with a large, canopy covered bed, more
couches and several clothes presses for his clothing. Beyond this was a
privy and bathing area which was again a mark of his rank to have such to
himself.

I usually slept on one of the couches in his bedroom, so that I could be
near him in case he needed me in the night. I have to admit, part of the
reason that I slept there was not just because Nicholas wanted it that
way. I wanted to be near him. I wanted to be near him as much of the day
and night that I possibly could. I didn't understand those feelings then
but it seemed that Nicholas shared them because he seemed to make sure that
I was around him almost all the time.

Growing up an only child, his mother having died when he was an infant, had
been lonely for Nicholas. I knew this because he sometimes spoke of it. I,
who had been raised alone as well, though my mother did not die but became
barren due to the difficulty of my birth, understood this loneliness in
him. We became, in many ways, the brother that each of us wanted and never
had.  There were times when we would laugh and play as if young boys
together. Those times were when I was happiest.

I didn't have to wait long before Nicholas came storming into the room. His
dark eyebrows drawn together, a scowl on his face and his eyes all but
shooting lightening bolts as he stomped up and down the bedchamber in
fury. I knew these rages of his and sat quietly on one of the couches,
waiting for it to pass. There was no reaching him when he was like this but
he would eventually calm down enough to speak and then I would be there for
him to vent his fury upon. The first times that this happened, I was
desperately afraid that it was I who was the cause of these furies, but
upon realizing how he was effecting me, Nicholas had taken me in his arms
and begged my forgiveness, clearly explaining that it was not me he was
angry at.

No, the source of these rages was ever the same - the Duke. I knew that
Nicholas loved his father with all his heart and ever strived to gain his
father's love and respect but, if the Duke held any tender feelings for his
only son, they were never apparent. It seemed the Duke took particular
interest in finding and exposing every fault of which he could find
Nicholas guilty. And oftentimes these 'corrections' were made very
publically adding humiliation to the already painful situation of having
disappointed his father once again. Nothing, it seemed, that Nicholas tried
to do to win his father's affection ever could succeed. Perhaps, somewhere
in his heart, the Duke blamed Nicholas for the death of his beloved wife. I
do not know. I do know that, while still a young man at the time of his
wife's death, the Duke had never re-married. Oh, he was well known to find
comfort among the serving wenches and there were rumors of several bastard
children but he never again seemed to allow himself to really care about
anyone. Especially not his son.

Nicholas's pacing became slower and I knew the time for him to finally vent
whatever it was that had upset him was at hand. I braced myself for the
oncoming assault which I knew would blast forth but was shocked when,
instead, he sat heavily upon the bed and buried his face in his hands.  His
shoulders shook and I could hear the soft whimpering of the sobs that
wracked his body. This frightened me for I had never seen him like
this. Never before had I seen him reduced to tears by his anger like this.

I got up slowly and walked over towards the bed. I knelt in front of him
and slowly reached out my hands and laid them on his shoulders. He looked
up at my touch, the look of shock on his face as he realized he was not
alone in the room. At first I was afraid he would hit me or throw me out of
the room but, instead, he grabbed hold of me and pulled me to himself,
burying his face in my shoulder and continuing to sob out his grief. I put
my arms around him and gently stroked his dark hair. I said not a word, not
knowing what to say and further feeling that words were unnecessary at this
point. I just knelt there, holding him in my arms, deeply aware of the
scent of him while, inside me, my emotions were torn apart by my devotion
to him and my concern over his pain.

Finally, the sobbing ceased. I thought at first, he would pull away from me
but instead, his arms went around me and he pressed his head deeper into my
shoulder seemingly to rest from the emotional ordeal he had just gone
through. He seemed content to rest this way for a while and I was only too
glad to offer him what poor comfort that I could. I continued to hold him
and to gently stroke his head and there we remained for quite a long while.

Finally, he pulled back and looked at me without letting go. His eyes were
red, his face tear- stained and the pain that he was in still evident in
his eyes. He seemed to search my face for something, I knew not what. I
shifted uncomfortably under his gaze for my knees, by this point, were
aching from the cold, hard floor. He noticed my discomfort and pulled me to
my feet and indicated for me to sit beside him on his bed. At no time,
however did he let go of me. It seemed he needed the comfort of my body to
aid him and I was more than happy to feel his strength and tenderness.

"I'm sorry, my friend." he finally spoke, his voice husky with the
aftermath of his emotions.

"There is nothing to be sorry for, my Lord." I said, averting my eyes,
unable to look at him as I said this.

"Some 'Lord' I am, bawling like a milking child!" he huffed.

"Even our Savior cried, my Lord and he was the Son of God." I insisted.

"I am no 'Son of God', Robby! Indeed, I am more the son of the 'Evil One'!"
he barked, still anger in his voice.

I crossed myself quickly to ward off the evil that surely must have been
awoken by this statement!

"Please, my Lord, do not say such things! You will draw evil down upon
you!" I insisted.

Nicholas gave me a sad grin.

"The evil has already visited me, Robby. I am unmanned. I am no better than
a eunuch!" he groaned and hung his head.

"What do you mean, my Lord! You are a knight! A man without peer!" I said,
not knowing where this horrible idea he had was coming from.

"Not according to the Duke!" he spat out.

"Your father thinks you are a eunuch?" I asked, confusion making my mind
reel for Nicholas's virility was obvious to anyone who saw him.

"My father forbids me to train with the troops or other knights or to
engage in any defense of his lands!" the bitterness dripping from his
words.

"But why, my Lord?" I asked.

"My father wishes not to endanger me in any way." he said.

"But that is because you are his son and he loves you, my Lord." I
insisted, knowing that this was probably not the truth but hoping that it
would give Nicholas some comfort.

"Hah!" he laughed bitterly. "My father cares for nothing but the seed I
carry in my body! His only concern is that I am here to take over when he
dies and produce sons so that our house will continue! He considers me a
very poor prospect of anything else! I am only good to stand stud to some
maiden so that his line will continue!"

I had no answer for this. At least none that I thought that Nicholas would
care to hear. I clearly understood what his father was doing and even
agreed with it from his standpoint. Nicholas was too valuable to him as an
heir. Because the Duke had no other sons - at least none born on the right
side of the blanket - to inherit the Duchy, Nicholas's safety was paramount
to the continuation of the family until such time as he had produced
heirs. Particularly the 'heir and spare' that was considered to be the best
way to continue the line. But I could also well see how this made Nicholas
feel that he was nothing more than a stud to further his father's dynastic
desires.

I also felt somewhat disloyal to Nicholas because I, too, wanted to see him
safe from harm. I did not want him to have to go into battle. My reasons,
however, had nothing to do with his family or the continuation of his
line. They had everything to do with my love and admiration of him and I
knew not how to express this in a way that would not seem to agree with the
Duke and make Nicholas angry with me. However, my silence seemed to convey
these thoughts and feelings to Nicholas anyway.

"So you agree with him, my friend? I knew you would. But at least I know
that your wish for me to remain safely succored in this pile of stones
while others fight our battles has to do with your care for me - not for my
ability to beget heirs." Nicholas said, drawing me even closer to him with
his arm about my shoulders. "Well, your worry for me is over. I will never
face battle now. Not unless I quickly take a wife and even more quickly
produce sons for my father to feel nothing for as well."

The bitterness in his voice just about broke my heart. Full well I knew how
much Nicholas wanted his father's love and approval and thought to win it
on the field of battle. Now, even that was denied him. I knew that, in his
heart, Nicholas believed that there was no way of ever gaining from his
father what he wanted and needed. But, perhaps, there was a way for him to
gain what he felt that he needed to believe in himself.

"Then why don't you do that, my Lord?" I asked.

"What?" Nicholas looked at me, confusion written all over his face.

"Marry and produce heirs. Then your father cannot deny you the opportunity
to defend the Duchy."

These words about tore my heart from my breast to utter. I did not want to
see Nicholas in battle.  I did not want him risking his life that way. More
importantly, the thought of Nicholas marrying was difficult for me to deal
with but I knew not exactly why. I knew that if he did, it would make our
time together less, but that was not all that I was feeling. I was, to say
the least, extremely confused.

Nicholas just sat there looking at me for the longest time. I finally
became embarrassed and dropped my head, unable to meet his continuing
stare.

"You overwhelm me, Robby." he finally said, quietly. "You care for me as no
one ever has. I know how much you don't want to see me in battle and yet
you are willing to sacrifice your own feelings to make me happy. Would that
you were a maid, I would marry you this night! But I have no wish to
marry. There is no woman who excites me or gives me any yearning in my
loins. I have no desire to be tied to a female for the rest of my life. If
it could be avoided, I would never marry.  But I know I will have to do it
eventually. Just not now."

"But why not, my Lord?" I asked. "Since you know this must happen
eventually, why not do it now and then you make your father happy by
producing heirs and gain again the right to take your place among his
knights?"

"First of all, I would have to find a 'suitable' wife. One that my father
would approve as not only a proper 'brood mare' but one which gives the
Duchy some political advantage through our union. That could take a year of
two. Then would come the time it would take to produce such heirs as I
would be required. Another year or two. If war comes, it will come sooner
than that.  There just isn't time for that solution for this problem." he
explained.

"Well, there is another way, my Lord." I said.

"And that is?"

"Your father is not an old man. He still has a randiness about him - at
least I've heard so from the servant girls. What if he were to marry and
produce yet another son? Then he would have another heir and you would
become less important in the scheme of things." I explained.

Nicholas heard me out and then began laughing. I sat there quietly until he
again had himself under control, which took quite a while. I was somewhat
hurt at his mirth as I did not consider my idea such a far-fetched one.

"Oh, Robby! You know just how to bring me out of my funks, don't you? My
father? Marry?  Sooner would the Pope take a wife! The Duke already has at
least four bastards running around that I know of! He will never take
another wife. He can change servant girls nightly in his bed!  What would
he want a wife for?!" Nicholas sniggered.

"Well...it was a thought." I said, somewhat petulantly.

"Yes, and with any other man, it would be a good one but the Duke is far
too selfish to want to share the Duchy with anyone - much less a wife. He
only married my mother because she brought a large dowery of land and he
needed an heir. She was the perfect wife for him, having the good grace to
die quickly after giving him what he wanted. I am sometimes glad she did
die and did not have to live more years with him. I cannot believe that he
showed her any more affection than he does anyone else!" Nicholas said
sarcastically.

"I cannot believe that, my Lord. Surely he must have had some love for her
to marry her?!" I said.

"Why? You yourself just suggested a marriage for me to achieve another end
other than love?  Why would he need love when there was land and the
security of the Duchy to consider?"  Nicholas said ruefully.

I couldn't argue with that. I had done exactly that. I guess I just
couldn't imagine someone not loving Nicholas or Nicholas ever treating
someone as badly as he seemed to think his father had treated his mother.

"My God! It is cold in here! Robby, would you get one of the servants to
light the fire in the hearth before we both freeze to death?" Nicholas
asked.

"I can do that, my Lord. As you can see the wood is already at hand." I
said, walking over to the hearth and beginning to place the wood for
burning.

"Robby..." I heard him say behind me.

I turned and looked at him.

"Robby, we are alone. I have just cried in your arms. It is Nicholas." he
smiled.

"Yes, Nicholas." I said, smiling back as I turned to finish lighting the
fire.

By the time I had the fire set and going, Nicholas had disrobed to his
loincloth and was headed to the privy. Upon his return, I had his bed
turned down and extra bed-furs thrown over it to warm him through the
night. I began to make up my own bed on one of the couches when he again
spoke to me.

"Do not do that, Robby. I would not sleep alone tonight. Please, I need the
warmth of you next to me. It is a very cold night." Nicholas said gazing at
me with such longing in his eyes that it caused my heart to almost stop in
my breast.

He had never made this request before and it stunned me. Was he really that
cold or was he in need of other comfort. What ever caused him to want me
next to him, I was not about to deny him this. In fact, I was not about to
deny him anything.

I undressed quickly and also went to the privy where I relieved
myself. When I came back into the bedroom, he was already in bed and
holding back the covers for me to join him. I slid beneath the covers but
did not move against him, not wanting to presume what it was he wanted.

"You won't be of much warmth that far away, Robby." he said quietly.

I went to move closer and found his arms wrapping around me and being drawn
tight against his body. The warmth of him, the scent of him, as well as the
strength and hardness of his body, caused more tremors to go through my
body.

"You see, you are cold. We will keep each other warm this night." he said
softly in my ear as I curled up in his arms.

He then kissed me gently on the forehead, leaned over and blew out the
candle by the bed. All that lit the room now was the fire burning brightly
in the hearth. I rested my head on his arm as he held me and the scent of
him was strong. I loved the scent of him. It was manly and spicy. It was a
scent that I had come to recognize as well as I did my own. I did not think
that being this close to him I would ever be able to sleep but sleep did
come, more quickly than I would have imagined.

The End of Chapter I of THE YOUNG KNIGHT

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