"Stallion and Lion"
by Beryll
"Godless heathens, what have you done with my squire?!"
The angry shout interrupted Sir Eric in his quiet contemplation of fate in general and his own unfortunate fate in particular.
Not so much because of its content - being imprisoned in the dungeons of the great keep of Seville by the Saracens, shouts of this nature were quite common - but because of the obvious British accent of the voice.
The man was pretty far away from home and the last time Sir Eric had been in contact with the Spanish crown no alliance with England had been in planning. On the other hand, it was nearly a month ago now that he had been captured - most of which he had spent being herded down to Seville with a few other captives - and he wasn't privy to a lot of secrets. Just a honest, hard fighting knight, trying to protect his home country from the invading heathens. With as little success as most of his colleagues.
He looked up as two Saracen guards came into view, dragging with them a struggling man. An extremely angry, shouting struggling man, obviously the one who Sir Eric had heard earlier. The man wore the coat of arms of the British crown, just like Sir Eric had suspected.
His curiosity sparked, Sir Eric watched as the guards tried to unlock the door to the cell Eric was imprisoned in while still keeping their uncooperative captive under control. An even livelier struggle ensued. When the British knight managed to give one of the two guards a bloody nose, they shouted for assistance.
In his rage, the English knight slipped into his mother language, shouting obscenities at the guards, of which Sir Eric only understood a smattering and the guards luckily none or they might have killed the man there and then.
Finally, two more of them arrived and together they managed to shove the other knight into Sir Eric's cell, quite obviously immensely grateful to be rid of him.
Unfazed by the fight, the knight grabbed the bars of the cell. "Where is my squire?!" he demanded angrily, now in Spanish again.
The guard he had bloodied blotted at his nose, and then grinned at the British knight nastily. "I hear he's a lot cuter than you are, heathen." he replied in broken Spanish. "The master of the guard has claimed him for himself. The boy's luckier than you are. You'll go to the block this weekend."
Then he turned and left, trying to appear dignified despite his probably broken nose and failing miserably.
The British knight hit the bars with his fist, shouting another selection of English curses after the Saracen. Then he turned around too to survey his new home and Sir Eric.
The Spanish knight eyed his new cellmate curiously. He was quite tall but not as tall as Eric himself, unruly blond hair and beard could not hide that he was handsome and probably popular with the ladies. His green eyes - now burning with fury - were surrounded by lines showing that he laughed often. His powerful build and fit body showed clearly that he was not an idle court noble but traveled. But he was not a eager young heir either. A man in his prime. That was the term that fit him best.
Sir Eric put on a polite smile. "Buenos dias." he greeted the other knight in Spanish, then switched to English. "What brings you to this hospitable place?"
"Ill luck." the other knight growled. "Bad planning, stupid pride." Then he sighed deeply, visibly fighting to calm down. He rubbed his face with both hands, then walked over to where Sir Eric was still sitting on the scant pile of straw that was the only furnishing of the cell. He flopped down next to Sir Eric.
"Sir Sean, Earl of Hailsham, pleased to meet you." he introduced himself.
"Sir Eric, unlanded lately, I'm afraid. The heathens seem to have taken a liking to my holdings." Eric replied good humouredly. It was almost eight years ago that the Saracens had conquered his family's small holdings and since then, they had taken a whole lot more of Spain.
"Godless devils, all of them." Sir Sean grumbled. "They have taken my squire somewhere else..."
Sir Eric could not quite suppress a grin. "So I heard." he commented which earned him a hard stare from Sir Sean.
"What will they do with him, do you know?" the British knight asked.
Sir Eric shrugged. "If what the guard said is true and he's good looking... the guard's captain is known to favor boys..."
Sir Sean groaned and hid his face in his hands. "Dear god, I'm responsible for the lad. I should never have taken him along..."
"Hey, that's the life of squires and knights," Sir Eric said and laid a sympathetic hand on Sir Sean's shoulder, "it's no use fretting, he's probably better off than we are."
"So what will happen to us now?" Sir Sean asked, not sounded comforted at all.
Sir Eric shrugged. "You heard the guard: they will sell us as slaves. Maybe after we're sold we'll have a chance to flee." He looked at Sir Sean thoughtfully, taking in the mop of blonde hair, the green eyes. Then he added with a slight smirk. "I'm sure you'll fetch them a good price. They like exotics."
"How can you sit there so calmly and just let this happen to you?!" Sir Sean snarled, jumping back to his feet and starting to pace the cell. "We have to do something! We have to get out of here! I have to find my squire!!"
Sir Eric leaned back calmly. When he had first been imprisoned here, he had been just as frantic to escape. He had been here for four days now and so far no opportunity had presented itself. He doubted it would. If they had somehow managed to get out of the cell they might have been able to sneak out of the keep as well but the bars were sturdy and the guards careful. Knowing when not to fight was one of the things drilled into him by the knight he had served as a squire a long time ago.
All they could do was wait and watch for an opening.
-
Three hours later Sir Sean was still pacing the cell like an angry, caged predator. Which - essentially - of course he was.
Sir Eric had two problems with that: The constant motion of the other man and his muttered curses were getting on his nerves. And to have those shapely legs pass right on his eye level again and again and again was making him acutely aware that it had been more than a month since he had fucked anything but his own hand.
"Madre mia!" Sir Eric exclaimed when Sir Sean yet again struck the cell's bars with his fist, making them ring like a dull gong.
Before Sir Eric really knew what he was doing, he was on his feet and had crossed the cell, grabbed the English knight, turned him around and slammed him into the bars.
Now face to face with him, the other knight's scent tickled his senses, blood and sweat and the musky smell that was all male.
Sir Sean glared back at him, his green eyes ablaze, already opening his mouth for angry words. The decision to shut him up was made and executed without thought. Quickly Sir Eric leaned down and pressed his mouth against Sir Sean's in a devouring kiss that had nothing to do with tenderness and everything to do with violent passion.
For a long, delicious moment the English knight melted against Sir Eric, completely submitting to the kiss, his mouth open wide, his tongue hot, hungry, and welcoming.
But then he seemed to come to his senses and angrily fought back, trying to free himself from his trapped position and biting down hard on Sir Eric's tongue.
Propelled back and losing his balance, the Spanish knight landed on his ass, the coppery taste of his own blood in his mouth. But the sharp pain only served to fuel his raging arousal.
"How dare you?!" Sir Sean roared, his rage now finally finding a reachable target.
Sir Eric grinned at him feral and wiped at his mouth, his lips still tingling from the harsh kiss. With a smooth move, he was back on his feet and launched himself at the other knight again.
They fought like animals. One with all his rage, the other with all his raging passion. Only their objectives were different as Sir Sean wanted blood and Sir Eric wanted flesh beneath him.
In the end, it was two facts that decided the battle: Sir Eric was well rested and Sir Sean was not. And after Sir Sean's anger was spent, his interest in fighting off the Spanish knight seemed to flag as well. Now it was more a struggle of who would end up on top.
That question was quickly resolved as Sir Eric used every dirty trick in the book till he had the other knight firmly pinned against a wall, one arm twisted onto his back, his free hand tearing at the lacing of Sir Sean's breeches. Thankfully, the Saracens had been so kind to remove both of their armor before they locked them up.
Sir Sean snarled into the wall, bucking against the Spanish knight's hold. As Sir Eric had just managed to tear open the breeches, Sir Sean actually aided him in getting that piece of clothing off.
Sir Eric pressed closer, their bodies hard against each other and his still trapped cock hard against the English knight's exposed ass.
A mixture of an angry growl and a moan escaped from Sir Sean as he instinctively pressed back against his captor.
Grinning with anticipation Sir Eric made short work of his own breeches and soon his hot cock rubbed naked against Sir Sean's skin.
"I'm going to fuck you senseless." he whispered into the other knight's ear and then bit his neck as he felt Sir Sean shudder in what certainly wasn't fear.
"Do you yield?" Sir Eric asked the time-honored question that now took on a whole different meaning.
Sir Sean only hesitated a second, then he nodded and answered hoarsely "Yes, I yield."
Now sure that the English knight wouldn't fight him anymore, Sir Eric let go of the arm he had still been holding. Sir Sean braced himself against the wall, spreading his legs for the other knight.
Even though Sir Eric was barely able to hold his raging need in check he decided to reward such willingness. He wet his fingers with spittle, then pushed one against the opening of the English knight. The tight heat he encountered made him groan in anticipation just as Sir Sean groaned in pain. Still he spread his legs wider to allow Sir Eric better access.
Sir Eric worked his finger in deeper, stretching the other knight a little faster than could be comfortable. He could feel Sir Sean's muscles reflexively tighten and relax. After thrusting inside him a few times he added a second finger, again making Sir Sean hiss in pain. He continued fucking him with his fingers till Sir Sean sighed in something close to pleasure.
"Come on, show what you got." Sir Sean growled.
With a grin, Sir Eric withdrew his fingers and instead pressed the tip of his cock inside before the English knight could have second thoughts. It was a tight fit and Sir Eric groaned in pleasure as Sir Sean's muscles clenched down on him hard at the sudden invasion.
He allowed the other knight only a short moment to relax, then he thrust inside in one long, hard move, burying himself to the hilt.
Sir Sean pressed his head against the wall with a gasp, his hands uselessly clawing at the unyielding stone.
"God," he hissed breathlessly, "impressive."
Flattered at such praise, Sir Eric gave the other knight time to grow used to him, enjoying the incredibly tight heat gripping him.
Only when he felt the body of the English knight relaxing and push back against him did he start to move in long strokes.
Whatever misgivings the Sir Sean might have had to start with were now obviously forgotten as he pushed back against Sir Eric on every stroke, growling in pleasure, thoroughly enjoying his fucking.
To see the other knight move so wantonly against him brought Sir Eric close to the edge. The fact that this was the first real sex in over a month didn't aid his self-control either. He tried to slow down but the English knight wouldn't have that, fucking himself on Sir Eric's cock.
Sure that he wouldn't be able to hang on much longer, Sir Eric reached around the other knight, gripping his hard cock and started stroking him in time with his thrusts.
In response, Sir Sean bit down on his own hand to keep his howl of pleasure muffled.
Just a few more hard strokes and then Sir Eric felt the grip of Sir Sean's ass tighten on him impossibly hard as wet heat spilled over his fingers as the English knight came violently.
That was more than enough to bring the Spanish knight to his climax as well and he buried his face against Sir Sean's neck, muffling his own shout of pleasure as he spent himself deep inside the other man's body.
For a long moment, they remained like that, both panting hard as they slowly came down from their high.
"Should I come back later?" a voice suddenly said behind them in heavily accented English.
They whipped apart like boys caught at a prank, both acutely aware how obvious it was what they had been doing.
Outside the bars of their cell stood a figure wrapped in the long robes the Saracens favored. The things that didn't fit this outfit at all were the long red hair of the lad and the freckles decorating his nose and cheeks. He had a big bundle of cloth under one arm and from the fingers of his other hand dangled the keys to their cell.
"Ewan?" Sir Sean asked incredulously.
So this was the English knight's squire, Sir Eric concluded.
The lad's grin widened even more. "Who else, kind sir?" he asked. "I have to say I am as impressed as ever with your ability to find something to fuck even in the most unlikely places."
The lad was insolent, Sir Eric thought. And if he hadn't been holding the keys to their freedom he would have put him over his knee and beat some manners into him.
Sir Sean seemed to think the same, he was fuming. But he held his anger in check, instead picking up his breeches and putting them back on.
"Are you all right?" he asked with genuine worry.
Immediately the grin changed to a sweet smile and Sir Eric suddenly understood why Sir Sean had been so worried about the lad. He was rather charming.
"I'm fine, sir." Ewan said. "Now let's get out of here, I'm kind of scared what they will do when they catch us again."
He unlocked the cell door and handed them the cloth bundle. Unfurled it proved to be another Saracen robe. There was only one of them though.
"Didn't know you had made friends." Ewan said apologetically.
"You put them on." Sir Sean suggested quickly, "You look more like a Saracen than me. Pretend I'm your prisoner."
Sir Eric nodded. Of course, it was a mad plan and there was a good chance they would all three get killed. But it was exactly the chance he had been waiting for.
Moments later he had put on the robes and both he and Ewan had hidden their heads inside the cloak's hoods. With a piece of rope, they tied Sir Sean's hands loosely on his back and then they were on their way.
If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Beryll