Mal looked down at the Black Knight. “Maksim Dikaya Koshka,” he said, as if it was something Knight should know.
“Mind if I call you Maksim?”
“I do,” he said, with a sniff. “Gospodin Koshka to you.”
Knight nodded, and stood with Koshka. He did not make conversation much, but Koshka spoke a lot about his merchanting in the East and the North, and how he made his money with ships and men and timber. Knight looked across the fire and saw some of the warriors from the East gathered at the far end, so he drifted toward them. Now the conversation was of his interest.
Knight kept an eye on Koshka, and he noticed Koshka was keeping an eye on him as well. Finally, he could take no more, and went back to Koshka.
He stood behind him, as he flirted with two other men at the same time. Then Knight tapped Koshka on the shoulder.
Koshka turned around. “Oh, it’s you. What is it?”
Knight bent down and picked up the man over his shoulder. “Put me down!”
Knight chuckled, and said, “I am kidnapping you, Lord Koshka, and will hold you for ransom.”
There was a squeal behind him as women scattered and men watched from the other end of the fire, not sure if they should go to Koshka’s rescue or not.
Koshka pounded on Knight’s back – not very hard, but with enough force to drive some of the wind out when he spoke. “Put. Me. Down!”
“Put him in the ransom tent,” said a young man in only a kilt.
“Oh, no,” said Knight, as he carried him out of the cotillion entirely, and down the street. He got to the first crossroads and set the man on his feet. Koshka slapped Knight – not hard, but Knight rocked as if it were.
“How DARE you take me–”
Knight kissed him.
Mal responded, the way Mal usually did, though he stood ramrod straight and still. Knight pulled away from the kiss and put him over his shoulder again, carrying him to the East Kingdom. “I claim you,” Knight said as he walked. “You’re mine.”
Koshka did not protest.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning, the two men were tangled in the bedsheets after an all night bout of sex, where Knight laid claim to “Koshka” again and again. Bits of lace were scattered throughout the tent, hose in piles in the corner, doublets cast aside in their haste. They had kept the noise low in human terms, but sounding like cats in heat instead. Now they lay together, purring as the sun came up.
“I ruined your clothes,” Knight said.
“I’ll buy more,” Mal replied, nuzzling against his lover.
Brock’s voice came through the tent. “Knight? Oh, Kniiiiiight! Muster in an hour.”
He moaned, sitting up. “I thought y’ said we weren’t gonna muster ’til War Week.”
“You’re going to be in the Champions battle.”
Knight stared at the doorway of the tent. “What?”
“The King wants you in the Unbelted Champions battle.”
Mal caressed Knight’s leg. “Is that good?”
“I din’t expect it,” Knight said. “A’right. Gimme a bit.”
Knight leaned down and kissed Mal. “Gotta go to work.”
Mal reached up and pulled Knight down for a better kiss. “Need help getting in the armor?”
He smiled. “Always.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Brock was a knight, so he was a “belted champion” – he wore the white belt that signified that he was a knight, and the chains that signified he was a knight of the realm of the East. The men gathered in the Eastern field and did some fighting there. Out of ten bouts, Knight lost one. Knight had learned the fine art of dodging, and his hits were not gentle.
Knight returned from the fight to find the tent empty. He smiled, glad that Mal was getting out and about on his own. He went and took a shower (after Brock, of course, since it was his Den), got into a clean tunic, and cleaned up around the campsite for a bit. He was enjoying a Blue Moon when Mal returned with Tyler, his arm around Tyler’s shoulder. Mal was dressed in red and gold this time, with a short ermine cape.
He stopped short before going into the gate, and Knight rose. “Come in here, Koshka,” he ordered, and took a few steps to get him. He walked barefoot across the grass, to the gate, and took Koshka’s hand. He pulled him into a rough embrace and kissed him, the taste of the ale on his lips. Tyler looked uncomfortable.
Knight released Koshka and looked deep into those frosty-blue eyes. He wanted to kiss him again. He wanted to pick him up and bring him into the tent and ravish him. Mal looked like that was what he wanted, too.
Knight shook his head. “Be sure our guest has food,” he said to Tyler, and sat back down, his hands before his groin in an attempt to hide his growing erection.
“We ate already,” said Koshka. “Do you know how to play cards?”
Knight effected a blank look. “Cards?”
“Ugh, I had to be kidnapped by a barbarian.”
“I know how to play dice,” he said.
“Chess?”
“Yes.”
“Chess it is.”
Tyler dug up a game, and they were in the middle of it when people started arriving for dinner. They played through dinner and even though Knight put up a good fight, he lost. The entire Den was going to go see some people perform, so Knight and Mal went with them. Luckily, it was dark where Mal and Knight sat on the ground, and Knight held Mal in his arms as a series of medieval instruments were brought out and played. The harp brought tears to Mal’s eyes.
That night they went home, and, with the music still in their heads, Knight made long, slow and sweet love to Mal.