"Why are those guys wearing tin cans on their heads?" Chet asked as he looked at the tapestry. The subject was the history of the world in the Eleventh Century and they were studying Europe, which was how they had come to look at the tapestry. "And why are they riding horses with long sticks pointing at each other?"
"They are knights, and they are jousting," Marcus replied patiently. "Knights were the noblemen of the kingdoms and had to be ready to fight for their king. The armor was what they wore for protection in battle, so they had to be able to fight in the armor."
"So they fought with long sticks?"
"Lances, yes, were one of their weapons, one they used when fighting each other at a distance. Most weapons like swords or maces or spears, the fighter had to be right next to the opponent. If you could kill an opponent before he got that close, you would live while the other man died."
Chet chewed this over. "That sounds mean."
"War is meant to be mean, and bloody and horrible with death all around and homes and farms destroyed. It was how Mankind used to resolve conflicts between their different kingdoms. War is terrible because it is destructive to life and possessions."
"Oh. So why are they all dressed up like they're at a party?"
"Knights wore the emblems of their family which were different colors and designs for each one. In a joust, nobody was supposed to get killed, though in the time we are studying now, some bloodshed and death did occur. But the idea was to ride at the other knight with your lance in front of you, and strike the other person either on his chest or in the head, which would knock him off his horse but only rarely injured or killed him due to the armor protection. That either meant that the combat was over, or they would have agreed to continue the battle on their feet, so the winner would get off his horse and they would fight."
Chet mused a moment, then said, "It sounds terrible."
"Not for the people of the day, they saw being adept on the horse and in armor and with weapons as being very good traits in a nobleman, and the men trained assiduously to become strong and proficient with the tools of their battles. Tournaments were a way to show off what they had learned."
"And we're going to see one?"
"Yes, we are going to see the tournaments and knights in their heyday, as it were. Groups of noblemen from a region would fight another group from a nearby region. Sort of like battling your potential future allies or enemies for practice. Everyone would come and watch the events, it was like a sports festival akin to the football games of a later era with their tailgate events."
"I don't want to see a lot of blood," Chet demurred.
"I have picked an event which turned out to be only somewhat bloody. By this time they had begun to use blunted instruments to make the events less dangerous."
"All right," Chet acquiesced and they went to the room where he could be temporally transported to the 11th Century.
"Wow!" Chet gushed when he saw the color and pageantry with lots of bright colors and flags of all sorts all over. They were near a line of tents on one side and a crowd of people on the other side. Beyond the tents, groups of people were engaged in the preparation of food, the boiling of water in large black pots, all the work of holding a festival.
Chet watched several jousts, and found them interesting if a bit tedious. Two men riding as fast as they could at each other holding the long lances before them and they would meet and usually both would fall off their horses. If that happened, they had to get back on their horses and ride at each other again. Usually the men, both exhausted, would resolve the match by only one falling off and the other would dismount and would sometimes faint from the exertion. It was a rough and tiring game.
One warrior who had made two such runs caught Chet's eye as he was removing his armor and as he took off his helmet, Chet saw he was a very attractive young man in his late teens or early twenties, with black straight hair, a set of strong square cheeks, a small but well-shaped nose, his lips were flat and pale, but fit his face well. As Chet watched, the man had shed his armor and now proceeded to shed his tunic which had clothed him from his neck and ankles down to past his knees. Watching the man pulling it over his head, Chet admired his massive chest and powerful arms, the man was a muscled Adonis in the flesh. "Who is that?" Chet asked Marcus in his sub-vocal way and Marcus replied with sound waves that were generated entirely in Chet's brain.
Marcus had access at will of all the knowledge of the human race and thus could read the emblem of the man's white/red/green design. "That is Sir Jacques de Croix, he is one of the Burgundian knights, a lesser son, for his heraldry bears the crescent. By the rights of primogeniture, he would not inherit the lands and monies of his father unless his elder brother dies without children."
"How would he be able to make a living, then?"
"His main hope is to be appointed his brother's steward in time. Until then, he must rely upon the charity of his father or older brother. And of course, if he wins the joust, he gets to claim his opponent's armor who would have to pay him a ransom to get it back. There are ways, and becoming a champion jouster is one of them."
Jacques was at a pot that wasn't on the fire, washing his upper body, now clothed only in a form-fitting pair of tights. He washed by scooping up the water with his hand and throwing it open-handed against his body, that soaked his hose. Chet wasn't the only one watching the handsome man bathe himself, but while Jacques met the gazes of all the women who stared at him, he saw Chet watching him and smiled a soft, genial smile.
Chet was emboldened to go over to the man and as he got close, Jacques asked, "Did you watch me joust?"
"Yeah, you were terrific," Chet replied. "If that other guy hadn't been as good as you, you might have won in the first round."
"Ahhh, but I won in the second and that is what matters. Are you someone's squire, perhaps?"
"Uh-uh, I'm just visiting."
"A shame, for I am in need of a squire," Jacques smiled at him. "Would you like to see what such a life would be like?"
Chet broke into a grin, for he hadn't used any of his pheromone on Jacques, the man was actually being friendly to him. "Sure!" he grinned.
"Come, my tent is this way, my servants should have my bath ready."
Chet followed the man down the line of spectators and into his tent, which was large enough for five or six people to go into. He saw the man's bed and in the clear space left he saw the tub, it was large enough to let a man sit in but no larger. "Now, one of the jobs of a squire at a tournament is to help me undress and then help me bathe," Jacques replied.
He sat on the bed and then lifted one foot. "Remove my shoes, please."
Chet obliged and then Jacques said, "Now my hose, untie it and pull it off of me."
"Is this a normal job for squires?" Chet asked.
"Oh, it is mandatory. I must be helped to rest after a joust as much as possible."
"Okay," Chet began to pull at the hose, they were wet and clung to the man's body and something more, he pulled the hose down past the man's crotch and his dong held onto the cloth and then sprang free, bobbing in front of him. Chet saw that and smiled as he knelt down and pulled the hose the rest of the way down.
He rose up and said, "Now if you will kindly get into the bath."
Jacques did and he said. "While you wash, you need to try to ease my muscles, as you wash, feel my body and if a part of it is stiff, you need to deal with it."
"Of course." Chet said. "Shall I get undressed as well, so my clothing won't get wet?"
"That would be the wise action to take," Jacques affirmed with a grin.
Chet grinned himself and he stripped off his simple clothing while he watched Jacques' back and butt as he stepped into the bath. He turned and again the cock was there, strong and throbbing. He lowered himself into the water and the tub, half-filled, rose as he sank into it and he hissed as his testicles dipped into the water, rose up and said, "This water is very hot."
"Should I fetch some cold water?"
"No, no, the heat will help me relax." Jacques managed to sit on his third try and he sank into the water and then lounged back as much as he could, "Ahhhh, this feels good. Help me with the water."
Chet got a mug on a table nearby and used it to dip the water up and poured it over the man's strong muscled chest and the man sighed as the water ran down him. "I see a part of you that is stiff," Chet told him.
"You must massage it until you get it soft again, then," was Jacques' laconic remark.
"I can reach it better inside the tub."
"Then join me."
Chet got into the tub and Jacques watched him do so, and remarked, "I see you also have some stiffness to deal with. The hot water will help, yes?"
"Yes, but I know something that would help me even more," said Chet.
"Then I am at your disposal," Jacques said and the strong chest that hadn't even been breathless after the two joust, was heaving up and down as he breathed heavily.
Chet had stepped to stand astride Jacques hips and so all he had to do was sit down with the expert approach the many times he had done this before and his ass landed on Jacques' prong with unerring accuracy. Jacques let out a serene but sincere sigh of pleasure as the young butthole seized his glans, swallowed it and sent it into the boy's warm, sweet bowels. "Ahhhh, yes, you can become the very best of squires. You shall live with me all day and night and learn the ways of the knight, and when night comes, you shall join me in my bed and we shall make love all through the night."
Chet began to rise and fall on the man's cock, it was so thick that very little water had gotten into his body with the insertion and the shaft kept him filled while he moved. If the water was any trouble, it was that the movement caused the water to surge and splash about him, and the waves his body rising and falling created were splashing it onto the floor.
Jacques' wet body was a golden tone by the light of the sun shining through the top of the tent, the tournament was only performed in warm weather so no heavy material was needed.
Jacques gasped and moaned as Chet bobbed up and down, and Chet gripped the man's solid shoulders to help him ride the hot dong more frenetically. Jacques was an attractive stud, but his lovemaking was more frantic than talented, he was heated up to a high heat at the beginning and he was moaning helplessly as he thrashed his head back and forth, then he lifted his hips up, lifting Chet with it and he exploded up into Chet's young ass, moaning more like a jousting victim of a mortal wound than a noble, dignified knight.
Chet thought that just as the door of the tent burst through with two massive men holding swords and their tunics bore two different sigils. Fellow knights had heard Jacques' moans.
They beheld their naked comrade in the tub and the naked boy atop him and burst out in hearty laughter!
"You were right, Hercule, it was an assassin out to slay young Jacques!" one man declared. He pronounced the name, "Air-Cule."
"True, but I did not think that he would be so small, Jean deJean!" the other stated. "Ho, Jacques, who is your puny companion."
"I have found this young man all alone and he is trying to become my new squire." Jacques said, not the least embarrassed. "So far, he has performed admirably."
"I have seen more awkward forms of bodily massage to ease the pains of battle," admitted Hercule.
"I have a few aches and pains I could use some assistance on, if Jacques would permit me to borrow his squire's services for a handful of moments," Jean deJean said, eyeing Chet.
"Now that you mention it, I have this ache that I need some help on," Hercule replied.
"What kind of fellow knight would I be, if I did not aid my fellow knights in their time of need," Jacques said. "My squire is young, but if he is capable of helping you, he is at your disposal."
Both knights wore their white over-tunics, but were not armored. They untied their waist ties and pulled them off, showing pale white shirts loose but recognizable to many following centuries as clothing, and hose much as Jacques had worn.
Hercule was brown-haired and heftily built, but his body was as much or more muscle than fat, he was round but far from being frail from the weight, he was, frankly, a massive man who well earned his name either by chance or design. His flashing brown eyes were jolly and his cheeks were round, but his arms were heavily capable of lifting a lance or a horse if he needed to.
Jean deJean was thinner but seemed able to swing the sword he had in his hand deftly and
Chet figured he could be hard to hit on a horse. More than one way to win a joust. He had fair brown hair and light blue eyes and fair skin, his face was thin as well, but he held himself with arrogant self-confidence.
Chet rose to his feet, letting Jacques' now-limp cock flop out of his ass, and was lifted by the two knights bodily out of the bath and was borne, dripping with water, to the small bed where he was lain down across it on his stomach, his legs on the floor. With a grunt worthy of a bear, Hercule bent down behind him. "Here you go squire, feel the stab of my lance of love!" He stuffed his cock into Chet's warm, come-filled ass.
The spunk of Jacques' ejaculation was lubrication sufficient to keep Chet from hurting too much, and his experience let him bear through the rest of it. Hercule pounded him with a lustily fast pace that was powerfully sexual even as the thrusts bruised Chet's buttocks from their impacts. The desire he had felt with Jacques had bubbled up again and Chet was moaning in an intense state of passion when Hercule let out a lion's roar and his cock spewed hot jizz into Chet's ass with flooded his bowels and caused spunk to dribble down his young testicles and plop onto the dusty floor.
Hercule pulled out with a gush of spooge, and as soon as he was out of the way, Jean deJean stepped in, breathing huskily. He got into the same position as Hercule, and his cock was slid into the boy with a squelching sound. Jean deJean began to pump at Chet as lustily as Hercule, but his actions were somehow less abrasive and painful to Chet's ravaged bowels as Hercule, his hips did not impact the soft buttocks as Hercule's thrusts had, and the pleasure was more. Chet's passion had subsided as the brawny Hercule had ejaculated and then dumped him so precipitously, and Jean deJean's actions didn't promise any better ending, it was like his body had decided to wait until a better lover came along.
Still, the man's fucking did bring pleasure and Chet was able to moan and grunt and thrust his hips back against the man's impacts as the man gasped and groans and his groans grew louder and more frantic and then the climax shot into Chet's ass, with more splats of jizz forced out as he was thrusting erratically into Chet's dilated sphincter, and Jean deJean fell over to lay atop him, panting hard.
"Ho, yes, he is a good squire to have, Jacques!" Hercule said, he had dressed again. "Now if you will forgive us, we were going to watch the valiant Robert (he said it "Roe-bear") jousting with the varlet Bertold of Konradsberg. If he can dehorse the scoundrel, he can gain a thousand pfennings in gold."
"Pfennings?" Chet asked Marcus.
"In this era, the 'pfenning' meant 'pound,' so he is talking about a great deal of gold."
"Oh." Chet said inaudibly.
Jean deJean dressed and as soon as he was gone, Jacques (who had used the time to bathe himself), rose from the bath and said, "Take the towel from under the bed and dry me."
Chet did so and as he did, Jacques continued, "I regret deeply allowing those men to take you. They did not treat you well. I deeply apologize and promise to never let another man touch you in any way."
"Thank you."
"Let me help you in one way," Jacques said to him. "I am dry enough, leave the towel aside and let me tend to your injuries."
"I am not injured," Chet said, but Jacques' strong hands pulled him up and he levered the boy onto the bed on all fours, and Chet braced for more fucking, but instead Jacques got behind the boy and his face went to the boy's come-laden buttocks, his mouth caught hold of the dripping anus and he pressed his lips to it and began to suck the come out of the boy's soft bowels, with a suction that sent waves of delight into Chet's body and he moaned and gasped and as Jacques finished, he rose to his feet, turned Chet onto his back and he climbed atop the boy and firmly mounted him and thrust his cock into the boy's drained anus and held it there as he leaned over and kissed the boy's face.
His lovemaking was tender and soft, and the warm body and handsome face filled Chet's world and he kissed the man and was kissed, with soft, lips and his body was stroked with strong hands and careful caresses and the entire unpleasant visit of the two boorish knights was left in the dusty corners of Chet's mind.
He gripped the man's body with his arms and legs and helped Jacques slide faster and more adeptly and the man's soft moans of pleasure renewed restored Chet's own passion and his body waited patiently for the lovemaking to be done, and as Jacques' body rose to its orgasm, Chet's desire ignited into his own boyish climax and he gasped as Jacques moaned and as Chet's young prick throbbed and pulsed in the boy's heady prolonged climax, Jacques' own body gave a second, depleted, but soft and tender ejaculation which filled the boy's body anew, this time with only this one knight's warm, strong jizz.
"You are magnificent, my new squire," Jacques sighed, and he sagged, and slumped into sleep while still atop Chet's body and his prick imbedded in Chet's ass.
"I sent him to sleep, he will awaken soon and think it was all just a strange dream he had. It is kinder this way, he will not mention it to anybody."
"He was nice, I wouldn't mind visiting him again." Chet sighed.
"Sorry, but a war broke out soon after this tournament and Jacques was killed by an arrow that managed to slip through a chink in his armor. There have to be small gaps to let the man inside be able to move, and it was a freak occurrence, but that happens far too much in any war of any era."
"I guess so." Chet sighed. "He was nice. War isn't very nice at all, is it?"
"No, it isn't. And all the pageantry of the tournaments and parades of veterans can't paste over the basic horror of it. Remember though, because war is so terrible, people finally came up with a way to avoid it entirely. This was all just a part of the history of Mankind, and it is important to learn about all of it, not just the nice parts."
"All right. Let's go," Chet said and he stood and the world about him faded away into the past once again.
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