Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4995775.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      NCIS
  Relationship:
      Anthony_DiNozzo/Timothy_McGee, Anthony_DiNozzo/Jethro_Gibbs, Anthony
      DiNozzo/Jethro_Gibbs/Timothy_McGee
  Character:
      Anthony_DiNozzo, Timothy_McGee, Jethro_Gibbs, Tobias_Fornell, Ducky
      Mallard, Jimmy_Palmer, Abby_Sciuto, Anthony_DiNozzo_Sr., Ziva_David,
      Sarah_McGee, Leon_Vance, Mike_Franks, Leyla_Shakarji, Amira_Shakarji
  Additional Tags:
      Universe_Alteration, Forests, Middle_Ages, Alternate_Universe_-_Medieval,
      Archery, Castles, Big_Bang_Challenge
  Collections:
      NCIS_Bang_Challenge, NCIS_Big_Bang_2015
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-10-14 Chapters: 9/9 Words: 31806
****** Once Upon A Time In The Forest ******
by Jacie
Summary
     AU set in the middle ages (think Robin Hood-esque). At thirteen,
     young Tim McGee is given to Prince Anthony as a Page on his
     eighteenth birthday. After a few years, Tim has become Tony's most
     treasured companion and is with him when a band of robbers decide to
     kidnap Prince Anthony in the forest and hold him until his father
     pays a ransom.
Notes
     Warning:
     Minor underage sexual situations - kissing, reference to hand jobs
     when Tim is 13. This is only for a chapter or two before he is in the
     18-22 range.
     Author Notes:
     Many thanks my beta, Rose Malmaison for helping to whip this story
     into shape. I have, of course, messed with it since she has seen it.
     Any remaining errors are all my fault. Much appreciation to my
     artist, Banbury. I knew creating art for this story would be a
     challenge and was surprised the story was actually claimed for art.
     Banbury did an amazing job illustrating this story! I added the
     scroll chapter headers. Some chapter titles are from Robert Frost's
     poem, Road Less Traveled, which has always been a favorite of mine.
     Written for the 2015 NCIS Big Bang Challenge, hosted at the ncis_bang
     community on Live Journal.
                                        
              [Forest updated header white font 1 by banbury.jpg]
***** The New Page In Town *****
                        [NCIS Chapter background 1.jpg]
Young Timothy McGee was out working in a field with his stepfather when he saw
a rider approaching. Shading his eyes, he looked over the fine horse. It had to
be a royal courier. His stomach clenched. Sometimes the King demanded the young
men of the area to go to war on his behalf. However, Tim was in no hurry to go
into battle. His stepfather glared at him, seeing that he had stopped working.
The boy pointed at the rider nearing the house.
“Come on, then. Let us see what message he brings,” said his stepfather.
Carrying his hoe along with him, Tim nodded and followed the older man back
toward the house.
Tim’s mother waved at them when she saw them approaching the house. “Timothy
has been summoned by the King!” she exclaimed excitedly.
For a moment, Tim thought his legs would give out. He had little proper
training with a sword and shield, having learned only the basics from his
stepfather, who had fought in many battles. How would he survive an actual war?
“What?” his stepfather asked. “There must be a mistake; he is only in his
thirteenth year! He is too small to go into battle. Are they that desperate for
soldiers?”
The boy watched as his mother ran to her husband and hugged him. “It is a great
honor, William. Timothy has been summoned to become a page for Prince Anthony!”
Cupping the boy’s cheek, she added, “Your father would have been so proud. We
are so honored that you have been chosen.”
His stepfather stepped over to the messenger. “Is this true?”
“Yes. Prince Anthony is nearing his eighteenth birthday and his father wishes
to surprise him with a page of his own. Until now, the Prince has been cared
for by the royal nannies. Since he is now of age to travel on royal business,
and into war, he requires a page to accompany him throughout his travels and
care for his daily needs.”
Tim glanced at his parents and pondered about his future. He wondered why he
had been chosen out of all the boys in the kingdom. Perhaps if he was only
along to care for the Prince, he would remain at the encampment while the
Prince rode into battles.
“Gather your things, Timothy,” urged his stepfather.
“I am to go now?”
The rider confirmed, “I am to bring you back to the castle at once.”
Tim nodded and raced into the cottage almost bumping into his younger sister,
Sarah.
“What is your rush, Tim?” she asked as she returned to her sewing.
“I have been summoned to the castle,” he replied breathlessly.
“You?” she said in disbelief. “I guess that proves that mother was correct when
she said anything could happen.”
“I have been summoned by the King. I am to serve Prince Anthony as his page.”
He did not have much and really thought the clothing he wore in the fields
would be burned once he reached the castle. He only took the clothes he was
wearing and a heavy tunic in case it was cool on their trip back to the royal
estate. He wondered how many days of travel it would take to reach their
destination. He brushed a tender kiss on his sister’s forehead.
His mother hugged him tightly and thrust a package of cheese, bread and apples
into his hands, along with a skin filled with milk. “Make us proud, Timothy,”
she pleaded as she fussed with his hair. “This is such a great opportunity for
you. Learn everything you can. Perhaps you will spend your life as a consultant
to Prince Anthony. Would that not be something truly wonderful? One day he will
be king. He can offer you a much better life than one of toiling in the
fields.”
Tim nodded briskly and kissed her cheek. He was afraid he would begin crying if
he attempted to speak.
“Do you know how to ride?” asked the messenger.
Tim shook his head.
The messenger rolled his eyes, then dismounted to assist Tim onto the second
horse. “She is quite gentle. You need only relax and stay in the saddle. She
will follow my horse.”
“Thank you,” he managed as he climbed into the saddle. “How am I to address
you?”
The messenger smiled and patted his horse. “I am called Walter.”
“Thank you, Walter.”
Tim had only traveled a few miles from his home in his entire lifetime. As they
rode, he kept turning back to wave at his family and farm, the only home he had
ever known, as they faded into the distance. Only when they were out of sight
did a tear slip down his cheek. He wiped it away quickly and faced forward,
towards his destiny.
Before darkness shaded the sky, the pair stopped to camp. Walter built a small
fire to keep them warm.
“Have you been away from your home before?” he asked.
“A few times. I have slept outside while hunting with my stepfather and we have
gone to visit relatives from time to time.”
“You shall have a new life now,” said Walter.
“That is true, but how can I forget the life I leave behind? How am I to forget
my family?”
“It is for the best. You must concentrate on pleasing the young Prince lest he
demand your head on a platter.”
Rubbing his neck, Tim swallowed deeply. The first night, he had trouble falling
asleep as he thought about what his new position would demand of him. He had
never seen Prince Anthony in person, but had heard he was quite handsome. As
the chill of the night increased, he pulled his heavier tunic around him like a
cover.
Each day, as the sun set in the evening, and in the morning as the sun rose,
Timothy would stare back down the road, toward his home, for a few minutes. “Do
you think I will ever be allowed to see my family again?” he asked as they
prepared to continue their journey.
Walter tightened the saddle on his horse. “Perhaps. If Prince Anthony is
pleased with you, he may allow it.”
“Is he kind?”
The messenger nodded slowly. “Those who deal with him say he is kind and
intelligent. They say he is fair in his dealings.”
The pair rode for two and a half days. Tim found himself sore from riding.
While they rode, he concentrated on keeping himself in the saddle. When they
stopped in the evenings to eat and camp, he questioned the messenger about life
at the castle and about Prince Anthony.
Even from a distance, Tim could see the castle as they approached it. “It is so
grand!” he said excitedly.
The messenger laughed. “It is cold, damp and drafty.”
“I have never seen such an extraordinary structure in all my days. It is
splendid.” Tim’s thoughts strayed back to the small building his family called
home. It did not compare in the least. He imagined the royal stalls of the
stable were likely nicer than the cottage in which his family resided.
“We will ride to the stables first and drop off our mounts. It is the King’s
wish that you spend the next month being trained in your duties. You are not to
be seen by the Prince. Work hard and learn your tasks well. Next month is
Prince Anthony’s eighteenth birthday. That is when the King will present you to
his son.”
Tim nodded as he hoped his duties would not be too difficult and that the
Prince was truly a reasonable man. Knowing the Prince could put him to death
for any reason was quite an incentive to work hard to please him.
He was assigned to an instructor; an older knight named Sir Tobias Fornell.
What was left of the man’s hair was graying, but he was physically in fine
shape. “For the next month you will do for me what you will one day do for
Prince Anthony,” the he began. “Anything he needs or desires, you are to
provide or retrieve for him. That is your duty.”
Tim nodded as he stood in Fornell’s suite.
“Prince Anthony’s chambers are far grander than my own. If he desires food or
drink, you will retrieve it. You will draw water for his bath and assist him in
bathing. You will help him dress and ensure that his clothing is clean and in
good repair. You will accompany him to his lessons and help him study or
practice. You will accompany him whenever he leaves the castle grounds. It is
all quite simple, really.”
“Yes. I am to do whatever he needs.”
“Anything he asks of you.”
“Anything. I understand.”
“How old are you, boy?”
“Thirteen. I am to turn fourteen in November.”
“Very well, let the lessons begin. For now you will sleep in my chambers on
that sleeping mat. It will be up to Prince Anthony to decide where you shall
sleep once you are given to him.”
“Sir Tobias? May I ask a question?”
“If you must.”
“Will I ever see my family again?”
“That, I cannot say. There may come a day when the Prince will release you from
your duties, but that is not likely. If he likes you, it is likely you will
become one of his advisors when you are both older. If he does not like you,
well, it is best not to think of that.”
“He can have my head on a platter. The royal messenger told me as much.”
Fornell came close and patted Tim’s shoulder. “It is best you do your job well
and not give him a reason to want your head separated from your body.”
“What shall I call you?”
“You may address me as Sir Tobias. I am one of Prince Anthony’s instructors and
a knight of King Anthony’s court. While you are in training, you are to go to
the stables while I am instructing the Prince. He loves to ride, so you must
learn to be comfortable in the saddle. You will also learn to handle a sword as
you are expected to protect the Prince with your life.” Sir Tobias inspected
the boy carefully. “You will not always be so small, one can only hope.”
Tim’s mind began to spin as he thought of what his mother had told him: to
learn all that he could. He would soon learn to ride a horse and handle a sword
properly. “Once I am with the Prince, what am I do while he is being
instructed?”
“You will be at his side. As I have told you, you are expected to assist him in
his studies. That will require that you are learning the same things. He has
been training with a sword for years, but you will be his partner for practice.
You must learn enough to present a challenge to him for your own sake.”
“He is years older than I am, and no doubt he is taller and stronger.”
“Sink or swim, young man.”
“What?”
“If you are thrown into a river, you have two choices: sink or swim. Give up or
give it all you have. Do you have what it takes to succeed?”
After thinking over Fornell’s words for a moment, Tim responded, “I shall do my
very best.”
“Good boy.”
                      [Forest divider123 by Banbury.jpg]
Fornell woke early and stretched as he looked over the young apprentice on his
sleeping mat. As he exercised slowly, warming up his muscles, he wondered if
the boy truly had what it would take to survive within the castle walls.
Shaking his head, he wondered why Tim had been chosen, over all the other young
men in the kingdom, to serve as Prince Anthony’s page.
After walking across the room, he kicked the boy’s foot. “Timothy. It is time
to awaken. As a page, you are expected to rise before the Prince. By the time
he awakens, you should have brought fresh water to his suite for him to splash
his face, laid out his clothing and brought his morning meal.”
Sitting up quickly, Tim rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Sorry. I am sorry.
What should I do first?”
“Come. Follow me. I will show you where to draw water.”
Tim followed Fornell through the maze of hallways out into a courtyard where
Fornell handed him a pitcher and demonstrated how to fill it with water from
the well. “During the cold season, it would be best for you to awaken early
enough to warm the water over a fire to take off the chill.”
“May I ask a question, Sir Tobias?”
“Certainly. This is the time to ask all the questions you may have. I am used
to it. My former wife asked a lot of questions. Mostly, wondering where I was
and why I had not acquired more money to buy her everything she desired,” he
said, shaking his head as if trying to rid himself of her memory.
“I am sorry. Has she died?”
“I wish. She took our daughter and married someone else. Did you have a
question pertaining to your duties?”
“Yes. How am I to awaken before the Prince? How am I to awaken before you?”
“That is something I can teach you. It may take a bit of trial and error. The
best alarm is your bladder. Are you known to wet the bedding?”
“No.”
“Good. Then a full bladder should awaken you. You should drink a glass of water
before you go to bed.”
“My mother told us not to drink after dark.”
“She did not want you to awaken too early. You should try different amounts. If
you awaken too early, try drinking less until you awaken at the proper time.
Fortunately for you, Prince Anthony tends to sleep later than I do.”
Tim nodded quickly as he carried the full pitcher back through the maze of
hallways to Fornell’s suite. Once there, Sir Tobias showed him a chalice and a
bowl to fill and watched as he slowly poured the water.
“Prince Anthony will splash his face with water and will scrape off his
whiskers. You shall also gather fresh herbs of his choosing so he may freshen
his breath. During most seasons the herbs he prefers are plentiful in the royal
gardens, although you can probably pick up what he needs from the kitchen.”
Tim nodded and watched as Fornell demonstrated the morning ritual.
“What is the chalice of water for?”
Taking the chalice in his hand, Fornell lifted it to his lips. “Some men wake
with a dry mouth. The chalice is for drinking and for rinsing his mouth after
chewing the herbs. Once the prince has finished you will discard the water. The
Prince also has a chamber pot which will need to be emptied and cleaned. You
may use his discarded bathing water to clean the chamber pot. Many people dump
the waste outside the windows, but when the weather is hot, the stench may come
back into the chamber and it is not at all pleasant. You may also haul it out
to the stable and dump the waste onto the manure pile.”
“Perhaps I could build a trough, to carry the waste away from the window,” Tim
suggested.
“Learn your duties first, then we will see about improving them.”
Tim nodded his understanding and made a mental note to see if he could have a
bucket to use for hauling the waste outside. His mind began spinning with plans
to build a waste trough.
“You will also keep in mind the Prince’s schedule, and will lay out suitable
clothing for him. He will most likely discuss such things with you the night
before. You must learn the difference between the clothing he wears when he
rides a horse, practices with the sword, addresses the King, attends a dance
and so forth. He may have a particular outfit in mind for a certain event. It
is best you keep this in mind when pulling his clothing from his wardrobe.”
“How am I to dress? I did not think my farming clothes would be suitable. This
is all I have brought to wear.” Tim hung his head wondering why such a lowly
farmhand was chosen to serve the Prince. His cheeks reddened as he thought of
being seen in his attire by anyone in the castle, but especially the King and
the Prince. He feared they would take it as an insult and punish him.
Stepping back, Fornell eyed the boy’s apparel. It was old, and dirty from
working in the fields. “A trip to the royal tailor is in line, I believe.
First, we will go to the kitchen. Another thing the Prince is likely to tell
you at night, is whether he will be taking breakfast in his chambers or in the
dining hall with the King.”
“I will be sure to ask his preference.”
“And remember it. Timothy, you must also keep in mind that any of the royals
may change their mind at any given moment of the day. He may tell you one thing
at night and change his mind the next morning. You must be flexible. Better
yet, if you learn to read his body language and his moods, you may learn to
know his wishes without asking. That is a talent worth having. It will save you
much grief if you can learn to anticipate his desires.”
Drawing in a deep breath, Tim thought this seemingly simple job might actually
be quite difficult. “I understand.”
“After breakfast, the Prince normally takes instruction. He is tutored in many
things.”
“Horseback riding and sword fighting. I have much to learn to catch up.”
“It is more than that. He is taught archery and hand-to-hand combat as well. He
also learns much from books. He is taught philosophy, military tactics, math,
astrology, sciences, literature, languages, writing, and many other things.”
“Wow. He has a busy life.”
“And from here on out, you shall have a busy life as well. There are times
Prince Anthony sits in court with his father. Once he turns eighteen, he shall
be expected to do this more often. There are often great balls thrown in the
castle, which he also attends. The Prince is rather fond of the royal balls and
of drinking wine. Timothy, you will see many splendid things, but keep in mind
that your duty is to serve the Prince.”
“When am I to find time to sleep?”
Fornell smiled, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “You must learn to choose
your moments. For instance, when Prince Anthony is being fitted for new
clothing, you may be able to catch a brief nap. When he is in court with his
father, you may ask if you may be excused. He may or may not agree.”
“What sort of person is Prince Anthony? Is he kind? Will he treat me well?”
Shrugging, Fornell divulged, “He is a kinder and more tolerant man than his
father. However, he is young and does not bear the weight of the kingdom on his
shoulders. It is best to do your job. Befriend him, if you feel he is open to
it. Most royals do not become close to those who wait on them, but it does
happen. Especially at the age of Prince Anthony. If he takes a liking to you,
he may be more forgiving of your shortcomings.”
“I shall do my very best.”
“I must ask you this. Have you ever been taken by a man?”
“Taken? I do not understand.”
“Has a man ever had his cock inside of you?”
Stepping away slowly, Tim shook his head. “No. Never.”
“You have grown up on a farm. Certainly you have seen animals when they
copulate?”
“I, um. I do not know.”
“It is a natural thing. I do not know whether or not Prince Anthony is still a
virgin. However, the rumors are that he is not. He may awaken with his cock
hard and needing attention. When I said you are to take care of all of his
needs, I truly meant that you are to care for all of his needs. He may or may
not want you that way, but if he does, you do not have a choice. Understand?”
Tim swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on the floor. “Yes,” he replied softly.
“Good. Let us go see the tailor. I will leave you with him while I give Prince
Anthony his lesson today. You shall wait for me in the tailor’s suite.”
“Sir Tobias?”
“Yes?”
“What is it that you instruct Prince Anthony in?”
“Handling a sword, archery, battle tactics and geography. He has other
instructors for his other subjects. He favors his physical lessons and
horseback riding over anything else. Perhaps you can help him with his other
studies.”
“I do know all the constellations and how they move across the sky.”
“Can you navigate a course using the stars?” asked Fornell.
“I have never tried.”
“That is a useful talent. The more useful you are, the less likely the Prince
will think about having your head on a platter.”
“Yes, Sir Tobias. I understand.”
                      [Forest divider123 by Banbury.jpg]
Tim spent a couple of hours with the tailor, being measured and fitted for
several outfits. Having the tailor’s hands near his inseam made him
uncomfortable. If he moved at all, the older man scolded him and told him to
stop fidgeting.
“As you will accompany Prince Anthony, you will require many outfits,” said the
tailor. “You will need clothing to wear in his chamber, something to wear when
he meets with the King, riding clothes and something to wear when attending
balls. Your clothing will not be as grand as Prince Anthony’s, but we cannot
have you dressing like a common farmhand.”
Tim nodded when the tailor spoke and followed his directions on how to stand
and hold his arms for measurements. He did his best to remain still, no matter
where the tailor placed his hands. When the measuring was done, Tim sat on a
wooden stool and watched as the tailor went to work mumbling to himself and
choosing different materials.
When Fornell returned, he shook Tim’s shoulder and spoke to the tailor, “Send
word when he needs to return.”
“I shall, Sir Tobias.”
As they walked away, Tim asked, “Return, Sir Tobias? Why must I return?”
“For a final fitting. Our tailor is good at his craft, but it is always best to
return for a final fitting. Afterward, you will have more fine clothing than
you ever imagined you would have.”
Tim swallowed deeply. He wanted to ask if he could keep the clothing if he ever
left the castle, but then he thought his position was likely to be a lifelong
occupation. There may never come a day when he would be allowed to leave the
castle freely.
For the next month, Fornell worked with Tim several hours a day. He had
conferred with the other instructors on when Prince Anthony would be in his
lessons. Times were worked out so Tim could receive some basic education
without ever being seen by the Prince.
One night he looked at Fornell and asked, “May I write a letter to my family?”
“Are they literate?”
“Yes. My mother teaches reading and writing to any who are willing to learn. My
stepfather was a soldier in King Anthony’s army before he settled down. I was
told he had the King’s ear and a keen mind for battlefield tactics. My real
father was killed in battle a few years ago,” Tim said sadly. “I still miss him
dearly. My mother could not work the farm on her own. My stepfather was given
the adjoining farm and they married a short time after they met.”
“Timothy, when you are with Prince Anthony it will serve you well to keep your
words to a minimum.”
“Yes, I can do that. I am so sorry, Sir Tobias. I guess I talk too much when I
am nervous.”
“There is parchment, ink and quills at my desk. You may write to your family.
The next time King Anthony dispatches a messenger in that direction, I will
have him deliver your letter.”
“Thank you!”
Knowing he would not have the opportunity to write to his family often, Tim sat
and thought of all the things he wanted to tell them. Most of all, he wanted to
assure his mother that he was safe and being treated well.
My Dearest Mother,
I have been told that I will be presented to Prince Anthony on his eighteenth
birthday. That date draws near and I am excited to think of the experiences I
shall have at the Prince’s side. I have learned so many things thus far. My
teacher, Sir Tobias Fornell, is one of Prince Anthony’s instructors. I have
been learning my page duties by attending to Sir Tobias since I have arrived at
the castle.
I have been told that I will be with the Prince at all times and am expected to
protect him with my life. The instructors have spent a lot of time teaching me.
The sword fighting has been difficult to master, but I must learn as I am to
help Prince Anthony practice. Two horses have thrown me during my lessons, but
I am beginning to learn how to handle them properly.
My favorite lessons are those in astrology and mathematics. The instructors say
I am learning fast and have a keen mind for those subjects. Other subjects are
more difficult for me, but they assure me I am doing fine. I am being taught to
dance and have confessed to my instructor that I hope I am not called on to
dance often. He said pages normally stand to the side ready to attend to their
master’s needs, but may be called upon to dance if there are ladies without
proper dance partners.
I find myself in good health and well fed. There is always an abundance of food
in the castle. They have a tailor who has made several outfits for me; each of
them far too fancy to wear when working in the fields.
Sir Tobias has offered to send letters for me with the royal messengers when
they ride near the farm. Perhaps if you have an interest in writing back to me,
they would be kind enough to bring your return letters to me. I hope this
letter finds you well. I miss you all greatly and hope to see you again one day
soon.
Your devoted son,
Timothy
                      [Forest Tim border by banbury.jpg]
***** A Turn Of The Page *****
                        [NCIS Chapter background 2.jpg]
The day of Prince Anthony’s birthday, Sir Tobias browsed through Tim’s outfits
and chose one for him to wear. Once Tim was dressed, Fornell escorted him to
the hallway outside the banquet room.
“You are to wait here until someone comes for you,” ordered Fornell.
“Yes, Sir Tobias.”
From where he waited, Tim could hear the musicians, jesters and balladeers of
the court. In the dimly lit passageway, several maidens carried platters of
food and pitchers of drink past him. It all smelled so good, his stomach
growled, reminding him of his own hunger.
“Soon,” one of the maidens said as she walked by.
Tim was taken aback by her beauty. She had milky white skin, green eyes, raven
hair and an alluring smile.
He waited for her to make her return trip and stammered out, “They call me Tim.
I am to be…”
“I know who you are and what you were brought to the castle for,” she said as
she continued down the hallway without stopping or glancing back.
On her next trip, he asked, “May I have your name, dear maiden?”
“And what would you do with it if I gave it to you?” she countered.
The minutes she was in the dining hall gave Tim time to think. “I am new here,
and would be honored to call you my friend,” he said as she passed him by
again.
The maiden smiled and curtsied. “They call me Abby.”
Tim could not prevent the grin from spreading across his face. He was watching
Abby walk away when Fornell came to get him.
“Timothy!”
Tim blushed as he turned around. “Yes, Sir Tobias?”
“It is time. Remember your place and all you have been taught. And keep your
words few. Understand?”
“Yes, Sir Tobias.”
Fornell directed Tim to the entrance and walked in beside him, with one hand
settled on Tim’s shoulder. “When you are presented,” he whispered, “say only
‘it will be my pleasure to serve you’ to Prince Anthony, then move to stand
behind him unless directed otherwise.”
Tim nodded. His eyes wandered around the room, taking in the grandeur. There
were dozens of finely dressed people chatting and laughing while they ate and
drank. None of them were paying any attention to him. Fornell directed Tim to
stand in front of the King. They watched as King Anthony rose to his feet, a
golden chalice in his hand.
“We are here to celebrate the eighteenth birthday of my son, Prince Anthony.
Son, on this day, it is only suitable that I release the royal nannies.”
“But I adore my nannies,” the Prince protested.
King Anthony raised a hand to silence his son. “You have fought well in battle
and, as a prince, it is time you have your own command. At eighteen, you are
now a man and too old to be cared for by nannies. They have no place on the
battlefield.”
Tim was in awe of the King’s stature and the magnificent array of jewelry he
wore, along with his fine attire. He then turned to get his first look at the
Prince he would be serving. His mouth dropped open. The paintings he had seen
in the castle did not do justice to the handsome young man. Prince Anthony was
a younger version of his father. He was tall and athletic, with a brilliant
smile that was impossible to ignore.
“For your eighteenth birthday, I am presenting you with your own page. I have
handpicked the young lad. He is the stepson to one of my finest fighters who
has told me of the boy’s intelligence and loyalty. His stepfather began his
training years ago and I am certain the boy will serve you well.”
“It is a wonderful gift, father,” said Prince Anthony. His eyes looked Tim up
and down, but he seemed unimpressed.
“And I also give you this fine Arabian stallion,” the King announced as a
prancing white horse was led into the banquet hall, his hooves sounding loudly
against the tiled floor.
Prince Anthony immediately rose to his feet and approached the horse. “He is a
beauty. Thank you, Father!”
“He is not a battle horse, Son. He is for leisure riding or light travel. His
spindly legs could not hold up a fully armed knight for long.”
Prince Anthony ran his hands along the animal’s white coat. “He is well built
and strong. We shall share many wonderful adventures together.”
Tim swallowed deeply, feeling the full weight of Fornell’s hand on his
shoulder. He had missed his chance to tell the Prince how honored he was to
serve him. His heart sank, watching how much more Prince Anthony was excited by
the horse he was presented, than his lowly page.
Fornell leaned close, whispering in his ear, “Go and stand behind Prince
Anthony’s seat. Keep his chalice full. Follow him when he leaves. Do not say
anything, unless he addresses you first.”
Tim stood silently behind Prince Anthony’s chair. Occasionally rising to his
tiptoes, he tried to catch a glimpse of the liquid level in the Prince’s
chalice. Before he ever had a chance to refill it, one of the maidens would
come by and do so. He began wondering what the point was of him standing there
at all. But it was not his place to decide where he was to stand.
Prince Anthony laughed easily and applauded the entertainment before him. After
long hours of eating and drinking, he stood and hugged the King before leaving
the banquet hall. His three royal nannies all turned to follow after the
Prince. From his seat at the table, Fornell glared at Tim and nodded for him to
follow along.
The women seemed elderly to Tim, older than his own mother. Their clothing
covered almost all of their skin, except for their faces and hands which were
wrinkled with age. Surely they had been a comfort to Prince Anthony, especially
as his mother had passed away many years before.
It was an awkward situation for Tim; to stand aside watching as the doting
nannies helped Prince Anthony into his nightclothes. After tucking him into
bed, they each kissed his forehead and gave his hand a squeeze. They each said
a few words to the Prince before they departed, touching him as a mother would
when tucking in her own child.
The last one was so choked up, there were tears welling up in the corners of
her eyes. She pulled Tim aside. “I have been the Prince Anthony’s royal nanny
since the day he was born. I cared for the Queen when she was with child and
was in the room when she gave birth. I knew this day would come eventually, but
I have always dreaded it. You must take care of him. He is a dear, sweet young
man and will treat you well. Now that he is eighteen, I hope he will soon be
wed and we shall have royal babies in the castle once more.”
“Will you be staying in the castle?”
“We have been given other duties. None as satisfying as caring for Prince
Anthony, but we are thankful to not be thrown out into the streets to fend for
ourselves.”
Tim nodded. He was glad that the nannies were respected enough to still have a
place in the castle. While he had no fear of being thrown out into the street
himself, knowing he could always return to the farm, his hand reached to his
neck. Fornell had mentioned more than once that the Prince could have his head
on a platter, but looking at the nannies, and hearing them talk of the Prince,
Tim felt assured everything would work out for him.
As they left the suite, the nannies extinguished the lamps. Before darkness
filled the room, Tim had seen that Prince Anthony’s eyes were closed. For long
minutes, he stood alone in the darkness, wondering what to do. Moonlight
streamed in through a narrow window, illuminating the Prince’s face. He was the
handsomest man Tim had ever seen.
Even though the Prince appeared to be asleep, Tim felt compelled to mutter, “It
will be my pleasure to serve you.” He sighed with deep satisfaction once he
delivered the words Fornell had given him.
With his exhaustion catching up to him, Tim finally settled himself onto the
floor. There was no sleeping mat, extra bedsheets or covers that he had seen.
To ward off the coolness of the night, he curled himself into a tight ball.
He barely slept, his stomach twisting over thinking of his future with the
Prince. It was still early when he woke. Not knowing what else to do, he sat in
a chair and watched over the sleeping Prince; wondering when he would wake.
When it occurred to him to fetch water and the Prince’s breakfast, he fretted
about not knowing his way around the castle. He had no idea how to traverse the
passageways to the courtyard with the well or to the kitchen. There was no
doubt he would find himself lost. After a while, he convinced himself that
there were plenty of others in the castle who could direct him back to the
Prince’s suite. He thought of Abby. Perhaps he could find her in the kitchen
and she could show him the way back.
Grabbing the pitcher meant to carry the Prince’s bathing water, Tim left the
suite and did his best to memorize the path. After a few wrong turns, he found
himself in the courtyard, filling the pitcher at the well. There was no
shortage of castle guards. When was unsure of his route, he was able to find a
guard willing to direct him back to Prince Anthony’s chambers.
Tim sighed in relief in finding the Prince was still asleep. His next venture
took him to the kitchen, where the chefs gladly put a platter of food together
for the Prince while Tim ate his own breakfast off to the side. The chefs were
able to tell Tim which hallways to traverse and which turns to make to get back
to the Prince’s chambers. While he ate, he chatted with Friar Duck, a friending
chap who delivered wine and ale to the castle on a regular basis. He was a
congenial man who had more tales to tell than any other man Tim knew.
“I have known Prince Anthony since they day he was born,” the Friar said. “He
was always a good natured child, but that did not prevent him from getting into
his share of mischief.”
Although he looked around, he never saw Abby that morning. One of the chefs
informed him that Abby spent much of her time traveling to the surrounding
forests and towns to gather herbs for both cooking and medicinal purposes,
along with picking a variety of flowers to brighten up the rooms of the castle.
“Sometimes she is gone for days,” the chef said.
Back in the Prince’s suite, Tim poured the wash water into the waiting bowl and
set a towel beside it. There was a table and chair in the chamber beside a
window which looked like it was meant for dining. Tim set the platter of food
there, noticing that it overlooked the stable.
For over an hour, Tim sat in the chair by the window and mostly watched the
stable activities, occasionally glancing over to Prince Anthony as he slept.
When the Prince began to stir, Tim went over to the bed. His eyes were drawn to
the tenting beneath the covers.
Holding his breath, Tim reached out nervously, slipping his hand beneath the
covers. For the first time in his life, he hesitantly reached out to touch the
Prince’s cock and began to stroke it gently. Releasing his breath slowly, he
noted that the Prince’s cock was larger than his own, both in length and girth.
He repeatedly told himself this was his duty and he had no choice. Just as
Fornell had instructed, he rubbed his thumb across the head, feeling the moist
pre-cum at the tip, then continued pumping the shaft.
A warm sensation flushed throughout his body and stirred his own cock. His
cheeks reddened as he hoped he was doing his task correctly. Licking his lips,
he swallowed deeply as he focused on the cock in his hand.
Prince Anthony awoke soon after. After rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he
stared at Tim. “Who are you and what the hell are you doing?” he inquired
loudly.
“I am your new page, Tim. Or Timothy if you prefer. Sir Tobias trained me,” Tim
stammered nervously, his fingers still wrapped around the Prince’s erect cock.
“He trained you to do this?” the Prince waved a hand toward his genitals.
“Yes, my Prince.”
“Do you have a surname?”
“McGee.”
“Ah, McGee. That shows your Scottish roots. I wish for you to call me Tony.”
“Tony?”
“Yes. That is what my close friends and nannies call me. I prefer it. That is
only when we are alone. If we are out in public, you should probably stick to
calling me Prince Anthony.”
“As you desire.”
“And I can take care of my own cock.”
McGee glanced down briefly, then released Tony’s penis. He wondered if he was
not performing the task correctly and had displeased the Prince in any way.
“Okay. I was only doing what Sir Tobias told me to do. I have drawn water and
brought your breakfast from the kitchen,” said Tim, waving his arm in the
direction of the table near the window. “If there is anything else you want or
need, I will do my best to take care of it.”
“How old are you, McGee?”
“Thirteen.”
“I can barely believe that my father dismissed my three treasured, experienced
nannies, for a single McTeen. What do you know of taking care of my needs? What
experience in life do you have?”
“My stepfather went to war with your father. He may have been of a low class,
but apparently he had the King’s ear. He was given the land adjoining ours to
farm. My real father had been killed in a battle a year earlier. My mother
married him to care for my sister and me. I have worked the farm and cared for
our animals since I can remember.”
“Horses?”
“A couple of cows, oxen and a few sheep.”
“You are a McShepherd! I am to be cared for by a shepherd boy. I assure you, I
am not one of your sheep.”
“I am aware, my Prince. Tony. I was brought to the castle a month ago and was
given to Sir Tobias to be trained. I am to accompany you through your day.”
“You can ride a horse?”
“I am learning.”
“Have you any skill with a blade?”
“My stepfather taught me some basic skills. I have learned more since I arrived
at the castle.”
“Are you to join me in my studies?”
“Yes. I quite enjoy learning from books. I find them fascinating.”
“Of course, you do. Actually, being a farm boy, I am surprised you can read.”
“My mother taught me. Books are few where we live, but I read every book I
could find and borrow.”
“There are plenty of books in the castle,” said Prince Anthony.
“I have been in the library. The collection of books is amazing. More than I
have ever seen together in one room before.”
As they chatted, Tony had finished jacking himself off beneath the covers.
Pausing for a moment, he closed his eyes and sped up his hand movement before
smiling blissfully. He eventually asked, “Where did you sleep last night?”
Tim nodded to a corner of the room near the fireplace. “There.”
“With no covers or sheets?” the Prince asked in disbelief.
“The nannies put you to bed, extinguished the lamps and departed. I did not
know what else to do. I remained awake for a while, then slept on the floor.”
Tony’s eyes scanned over his bed. “There is no reason for you to sleep on
stone. My bed is large. You are welcome to sleep beside me.”
“Sir?”
“Really, it is fine. My nannies had their own quarters, but apparently you are
meant to share mine.”
“I can ask for quarters of my own. Sir Tobias said you would tell me where to
sleep.”
Tony waved off his concerns. “It is fine. It may be more convenient to have you
here. My nannies each had a shift. One of them was always here with me.”
“Did they share your bed?”
“No! Of course not. The one who was with me at night sat in the chair over
there and watched over me as I slept. She was here to ensure no one did me harm
as I slept and to do my bidding when I awoke.”
“Your nannies were trained with the sword to defend you?”
“No. That cord there, if you pull it, a bell rings and summons the guards.”
Tim nodded slowly, suddenly remembering that Fornell told him not to talk too
much.
“Fetch my clothing,” Tony commanded as he rose from his bed.
Tim scrambled quickly into the next chamber where the Prince’s clothing was
stored. “Will you be riding this morning?”
“Studies.”
The Prince had enough clothing to outfit the entire village that was nearest to
Tim’s family’s farm. He remembered the words of the tailor and Fornell, using
their advice to choose an outfit suitable for the Prince to wear around the
castle. When he laid the garments on Tony’s bed, he hoped he had chosen wisely.
Tony had risen from the bed and splashed water on his face before shaving. Tim
watched with great interest as the Prince scraped the stubble from his face.
His own father and stepfather had worn beards.
“Does it hurt?” he asked.
“Do not worry McTeen, you will get whiskers soon enough. A royal pain is what
they are.”
“Where I am from, the men allow their beards to grow.”
Tony smiled. “It is okay for common men and soldiers to grow their beards, but
royalty and nobility are expected to scrape them off. My father has an
attendant do it for him. I am surprised he allows anyone so close to his throat
with a sharpened blade.”
“Is that why you scrape your own whiskers?”
“My father tells me that I must learn to do this myself before allowing someone
else the privilege. Perhaps there will a day when I entrust you with the task.”
Tim’s eyes roamed over Tony’s body slowly.
“What?” asked the Prince when he noticed his page leering at him.
“I have never seen a man’s body with such perfect proportions.”
The Prince laughed. “I shall take that as a compliment.”
When the Prince stepped over to where Tim had laid out his clothing, Tim stood
still until the Prince turned and glared at him.
“I am sorry, my Prince,” Tim stammered as he assisted Tony into his garments.
Once he was dressed, Tony sat down at the table to eat and motioned for Tim to
sit across from him. “Are you hungry?”
“The chefs gave me something to eat while they were preparing your meal.”
“If you are ever hungry or cold or tired, you can tell me. I was raised by
three sweet, motherly nannies. They taught me to think of others.”
Tim simply nodded. He had heard some wealthy people treated others quite
poorly.
“They explained to me that life is good for the wealthy, but not always so for
others. And they warned that if I do not treat others well, I may find myself
poor and wanting one day. My life could depend on other people, and their
willingness to help me in my time of need may be determined by how I have
treated them in the past.”
“I was raised to obey my elders.”
“I am not that much older than you. Five years is not much time.”
“It is closer to four years. My birthday is in November.”
“I shall remember that. Let us go to the royal classroom to see what the
instructors will teach us today.”
                      [Forest divider123 by Banbury.jpg]
In the first few days they were together, Tony was amazed at how well Tim
absorbed knowledge from books. When asked about their lessons as the page often
had a better grasp of the more abstract ideas. In physical endeavors, Tony
found he could easily beat Tim with a sword or on the back of a horse.
The Prince realized that he enjoyed sharing his bed, especially on colder
nights. Tim allowed Tony to take care of his own cock when they awoke, but
occasionally reminded the Prince that he had been trained for the task.
“I prefer to handle it on my own,” Tony assured him. “Have you ever kissed
someone before?”
“Not really. I have kissed my mother on the cheek. She kisses me on the cheek
or forehead.”
“Does your cock get hard at night?”
“Not like yours,” Tim admitted.
“I thought perhaps you took care of it before I awoke.”
“Sir Tobias said it will happen one day. He told me about fornication.”
“Your father did not explain it to you?”
“No.”
“My father, the King, he gave me some pointers. But he also had my instructors
teach me. My nannies gave me some suggestions as well on how to treat a lady
properly. My father explained about fucking a woman, but pulling my cock out
before spilling my seed. At least until I have taken a wife.”
Tim was unsure of the meaning, but nodded anyway.
“That is how a woman becomes with child, when a man spills his seed inside of
her. My father explained that a wife will be chosen for me one day, but he does
not expect me to remain a virgin until then.”
“You lie with women you are not married to?”
“All the time. But it will cause problems if one ever bears my child. So I have
to be careful. Otherwise, if my father suspects a woman that I am not wedded to
of carrying my child, he would have her killed. So I must be careful for their
sake.”
“Sir Tobias asked if I had ever been with a man,” Tim blurted out.
“Have you?”
“No. Although, my mother told me it was a sin to lie with a woman who is not
your wife, she said nothing about being with a man.”
“And Sir Tobias did not take you?”
“Not like that. He said I was to remain a virgin in case you wanted to,”
pausing, Tim gulped. “Do that to me.”
“Perhaps one day. You are young, McTeen. Your cock does not get hard yet. It
means you are not ready. But kissing is something you are ready to learn.”
Tim sighed, relieved.
That night, Tony held Tim close in bed and began teaching him the art of
kissing.
Tim found the closeness pleasant, feeling hardness of Tony’s well-toned muscles
and the warmth of his skin against his own. The Prince’s lips were soft,
reminding Tim of melting butter so much that he licked his own lips.
“Lips only for now, McAnxious,” Tony said as he gently brushed back Tim’s hair.
“We shall get to the tongues later on. You must never kiss more than my hand in
public, but this time at night is our own.”
Tim nodded as he felt the sensation of warmth ebbing throughout his body until
his cock began to stir.
                      [Forest divider123 by Banbury.jpg]
Tim often found time to write his mother in the mornings, before Prince Anthony
was awake.
My Dearest Mother,
I miss you all very much and have imagined the fields growing nearer to harvest
each day. When we go on rides, I see the harvesting is done here and I imagine
it is the same for you. But I still like to think of the crops in the field as
it reminds me of pleasant times at home. It is strange for me, knowing that I
was not there to partake in the harvest and the bountiful meals you always
prepare.
I am enjoying life in the castle and becoming more used to it each day. The
Prince is quite kind hearted and watches out for me. My clothing is nearly as
fine and innumerable as his own. We spend nearly every moment together and I
have learned so much. They have a library full of hundreds of books, which I
have been told I can read at my leisure.
I already accompany the Prince to meetings with the King and his greatest
knights. I am sure once Prince Anthony is crowned king, he will retain my
services as an advisor. He often asks my opinions on all matters of things.
I have accompanied the Prince into battle, but the knights are sworn to protect
him. We are never outnumbered and if an opposing knight looks to be gaining the
advantage over the Prince, our knights will ride forward and finish our foe. I
have only rarely crossed swords with another in battle. The Prince looks
forward to proving himself on the battlefield and will take on any foe riding
toward us.
He says he sleeps well, knowing I am at his side. It is a great compliment to
me.
As always, I hope all is well with everyone at home and look forward to your
next letter.
Your devoted son,
Timothy
                      [Forest Tony border by banbury.jpg]
***** A Tree In The Forest *****
                        [NCIS Chapter background 3.jpg]
 
As the months and years passed by, Tim grew taller and stronger. Although he
never mastered the sword or riding as well as the Prince, he became quite
satisfactorily skilled at both. Prince Anthony bragged to his father how smart
Tim was and the boy was not only at meetings to accompany the Prince, but was
sometimes asked his thoughts on important matters.
He continued writing to his mother of his experiences with the Prince and of
life in the castle and looked forward to hearing any word from the farm.
On his eighteenth birthday, Prince Anthony gave Tim a fine horse of his own and
changed his title to squire. Although King Anthony was not keen to celebrate
with a fine banquet, the Prince insisted.
“He is like a brother to me,” the Prince had said.
“Then you would share your throne with him?”
“I will not give him the throne, but he will have my ear. He is a smart lad and
I trust him completely. There are not many people I can trust. Timothy has
proven his loyalty to me and to this kingdom time and time again. I would like
to celebrate his eighteenth year to show my gratitude.”
In the end, King Anthony allowed the festivities. Prince Anthony had arranged
for games including a royal joust and presented Tim with his own seat, right at
the Prince’s side.
“One day, I shall have you knighted,” the Prince promised him.
Tim beamed with pride at Tony’s words. He had always aspired to be a knight one
day and now he knew it was only a matter of time.
The Prince’s fine Arabian stallion had matured and was a favorite mount. The
Prince called him Victory. Tim’s horse was a heavier steed, a pale chestnut
with a flaxen mane and tail. Tim was told his name was Chester. He was taller
than Victory, but did not have the speed the Arabian had. Still, he was able to
match Victory’s pace except at a full gallop.
Tim continued sharing Tony’s bed, and would close his eyes when he stroked his
own cock. Inhaling deeply, he could smell the Prince beside him, and imagined
they were kissing. Although he thought about fornicating with the Prince, he
never told him. He was afraid Tony might kick him out of the bed permanently.
Instead, he dreamed about the Prince, and detested any talk around the castle
of the King searching for a bride to wed his son.
                      [Forest divider123 by Banbury.jpg]
Then the day came that Prince Anthony was summoned to a nearby kingdom to meet
Princess Amelinne. He rolled his eyes when his father wanted to send a score of
knights along to protect him.
“My squire and I will be fine,” he insisted.
“Sheriff Vance says there have been more reports of robbers in the forests.”
“Then have the sheriff and his men arrest the robbers. Timothy and I are armed
with swords and can protect ourselves.”
“And if you find yourself outnumbered?” asked the King.
“There is no horse in the kingdom that can outrun Victory at a full gallop.”
“And you would leave your squire behind?”
Tony thought for a moment. “He shall ride the next fastest horse in the royal
stable. I will have them saddle Weatherby and a pack horse for our things.”
“I wish you would reconsider taking the carriage and a score of knights.”
“What am I? A woman? A damsel in distress who is in need of protecting and
saving?”
His father laughed heartily. “No, my son. But it is my hope that you will live
long enough to take the throne.”
“Do not worry about me. You should find yourself another queen. I see no reason
that I should be forced to marry when you are single and sitting on the throne
alone.”
“You do not fear she would poison us both just to rule on her own?”
“I trust you have better judgment than that. And your guards have managed to
kill off your previous wives who appeared to have nefarious schemes in mind.”
“This is true. It is difficult to remember which ones actually died from
natural causes.”
“I suppose it is easier to remember those you divorced.”
A fortnight later, Tony and Tim mounted their horses and left the safety of the
castle walls.
“In truth, I do not care if we ever arrive,” Tony confessed.
“Why is that?”
“I am not sure I wish to be married.”
“Princess Amelinne could be very beautiful.”
“I am certain that she is. Most kings are given a beautiful wife to bear him
beautiful children. Why should I expect anything less? I fear it may not be
enough.”
“She could be smart and bright and may challenge your intellect.”
“Perhaps. Although, most women are taught to hold their tongue, and bear
children, instead of speaking their minds.”
“Even a princess? I thought all royalty were educated in running their
kingdoms. What if her parents die and she is made queen?”
“She has two brothers in line to take the throne before her. And if she was in
that position, I am certain there are royal consuls in place until she is ready
to run things on her own.”
“Do you dream of the day you will be king?” Tim asked.
“In truth, I would like to travel. I would like to shed my royal garb and see
the world from the back of my horse,” Tony said, reaching down to pat Victory’s
shoulder. “I would like to see the cities I have only read about. I have heard
about great works of art, a feast for the eyes.”
“If you were poor, you would work from sunup until sundown in the fields until
you dropped dead. There is no time to dream when it is time to harvest the
crops.”
“I suppose we all have our crosses to bear. Now allow me to ask you a question.
If you were still at home on your farm, would you have taken a wife by now?”
“Perhaps.”
“Would your marriage be arranged?”
“It is not like it is for you,” Tim explained. “Royal families have arranged
marriages to strengthen their allies. On the farm, we look for a woman who is
strong and will bear many children. She should be a good cook and be able to
keep her family in clothing. If she can do that and work the fields beside her
husband, she is a true treasure.”
Tony tightened the reins, pulling Victory to a stop. “But is your marriage
arranged? Do you have a choice in the bride you take?”
“I suppose. Although the choices are often very limited and it is not unusual
for one’s family or church to nudge a couple together.”
“Interesting,” replied Tony as he pushed Victory into motion once more.
                      [Forest divider123 by Banbury.jpg]
In the afternoon, they met up with another group of riders. Tony and Tim each
put their hands on the hilts of their swords in case of trouble.
As the group closed in on them, Tony sighed in relief. “Greetings, Sheriff
Vance. What news do you have?”
“Where are your royal guards, Prince Anthony?”
“It is only a short trip. I have my squire, Timothy, to watch my back.”
“No offence to your squire, but there is an active group of robbers that rides
through these forests. They could easily outnumber and overpower the two of
you.”
“We are riding the two fastest horses in the whole kingdom.”
“Winding overgrown paths in the forest are not the same as a flat road for
racing.”
“Victory and Weatherby are both swift and surefooted. Victory may have a slight
edge on speed, but there is no finer jumper in the land than Weatherby. They
will deliver us safely to our destiny and back.”
“It is not safe. I must assign two of my men to escort you through the forest,”
insisted Sheriff Vance.
“It is not necessary,” said Tony.
“Crime in the area is increasing. We are chasing after them now, but they could
be anywhere. They are clever nomads. They move their camp constantly. They are
led by a man named Jethro Gibbs. He is a very dangerous man. He would think
nothing of killing you. I cannot, in good conscience, allow you to continue
unescorted.” Sheriff Vance turned to his men. “Kent and Stokes, escort the
Prince.”
“We do not have enough supplies for two more,” Tony noted.
“They carry their own packs and can hunt off the land. Your father would never
forgive me if I failed to provide you protection and something happened to
you.”
Tony wanted to tell Vance that they did not have time to stop and hunt for
food, but decided to just move on. Once the sheriff made up his mind, he was
not known for being talked into a different course of action.
“Thank you, Sheriff Vance.” With that said, Tony turned his horse and continued
down the road.
                      [Forest divider123 by Banbury.jpg]
That evening they stopped at a farmhouse, and sent Timothy to talk to the
farmer, offering him cash for use of his barn for the night. Being poor, it was
an offer most people in the area could not afford to refuse.
“Do not tell them that I am a prince,” warned Tony. “It is safer for me if no
one knows that I am traveling.”
After they were given permission, the four men led their horses into the barn
and spread out their bedrolls. An hour after the four men arrived, the farmer
and his wife came to the barn and offered their guests a loaf of dark rye
bread, cheese, ale and small portions of boiled pigeon, which the guests
gratefully accepted.
“I would give almost anything for a nice lamb shank right about now,” said
Tony.
Tim frowned. “This is probably the best food these people have had in a month.
It was only offered because of the money you gave them. They surely think you
are some great nobleman to have such wealth to spread around.”
“You know I care nothing about my wealth,” Tony replied as he smoothed his
bedding.
“You might think differently if you had to toil from sunup to sundown every day
of your life just to keep your family fed.”
“And this is why it is foolish to marry. Once you wed, you are responsible for
a wife and however many children she produces.”
“Do you not want children? Someone to carry on your line?”
“For all I care, my father can marry another woman and have more children. If I
am made to rule, my halfsiblings or their children can have the throne when I
am gone. Does it really matter anyway? I see no reason to bog myself down with
such unpleasantries. Being single, I wish to enjoy my life. When I die, why
should I care who sits on my throne?”
Tim sat and stared at Tony as if he was seeing him for the first time. “How can
you not care? Do you not feel a responsibility for the people under your
father’s rule?”
“I understand why a farmer needs a wife and children. When he grows old and his
body is frail, he will rejoice in having offspring to work the farm and put
food in his mouth. I have no need to worry. The royal family is wealthy. I will
be cared for until the end of my days whether I am married or not. If I did not
sit on the throne, another would be found to serve as king. Even if I take the
throne, all men die one day. There would still come a day when someone else
would sit on the throne.”
“Do you not wish to have someone to love and care for you?”
Tony smiled broadly. “That is what I have you around for, Tim. You care for me.
Do you not?”
“I do. But is that the same as having a wife or child around to care for you?”
“It is far less complicated. My father has been married more times than I care
to count and the only one of them who was not a pain in the ass was my mother.”
“What happened to her?”
“She became ill and died when I was seven. I was allowed to remain with her
until the end. I was sitting on her bed, holding her hand, when she took her
final breath.”
“Wow,” Tim exclaimed. “I have never been in the same room as someone passed
away.”
“It is not that exciting,” Tony said. “She was weak. She lost her appetite near
the end and had not eaten more than a bit of broth in her final days. I
remember she gasped a couple times, then there was a long exhale and she
breathed no more. I sat with her a while longer. She was still and her body
cooled. Eventually my nannies took me from the room and told me she was in a
better place.”
“Heaven.”
“I asked them, if there was a better place than life, why everybody did not
wish to die and go to the better place.”
Tim smiled again. He liked to think of Tony as a young boy. “And what did they
tell you?”
“They told me that God has a plan for everybody. You must have faith in God and
he will come for you when you have proven yourself faithful to him and he has
no more for you to do on Earth. They said if you kill yourself, you go to a bad
place and it is full of the most horrible conditions you can imagine, and you
are tortured for all eternity. But they assured me that my mother went with
God.”
“My father died in battle. I do not even know where his body was buried.”
                      [Forest divider123 by Banbury.jpg]
The next morning, Tim woke up early and happily assisted the farmer and his
family with some of their chores. In return, he was given more dark rye bread,
cheese and ale for their morning meal.
When Tony blinked his eyes open and looked at the food placed before him, he
glanced over to McGee. “Is this left over from supper? It looks strangely
familiar.”
“Welcome to the life of a farmer. Last night they likely had turnip or leek
pottage for dinner, but would have only had enough for their own family. We
were fortunate they had enough of anything to share. It is a gift, my Prince.
Accept it as such.”
“Sure. I actually like tasting different foods. Life is for experiencing
things, Tim. If I am allowed, I will experience all I can.”
After they ate the meager food offerings and packed their bedrolls, the group
said farewell to the family and mounted their horses. As they entered the
forest, Vance’s men insisted on riding in front. Tony gave them some room, but
kept them within sight.
At midday, they stopped for a meal. Tim unwrapped loaves of white bread, along
with dried beef and lamb.
One of Vance’s men looked at the offerings. “You had this and you ate a
farmer’s meal last night?”
Tim scowled. “They were being gracious hosts. It would have been rude to refuse
their hospitality.”
“Did Vance not say you two were used to hunting to provide food when you
travel?” Tony asked.
“Aye, we are.”
Motioning for them to sit, he offered, “Please share our meal. I will not have
you slowing us down. Then tonight you can amaze us with your ability to hunt.”
“Thank you, Prince Anthony. You are most gracious and accommodating.”
After their meal, the men were back atop their horses, often moving at a trot.
“This is nice, Tim. The trees allow plenty of light, yet keep the harshest of
heat from touching our skin.”
“Surely you have ridden through the forests before?”
“Of course. I have been riding on royal hunts since I was seven or eight. When
did you begin going on hunts?”
“About the same age.”
“Interesting.”
“When we did hunt, it was not the same as your notion of hunting. We hunt only
small game, such as rabbits or game birds. We had no horses, so we tracked
animals on foot and had to carry home anything we killed. We only hunted for
food, never for sport.”
“Really?”
“I told you, farmers have to work sunup until sundown just to put food on the
table. During the seasons from planting until harvest, we have no time for
hunting. There are times when food is scarce in winter and we have no choice,
but to hunt.”
“I guess you are correct, Tim. Being a poor McFarmer must be a terrible fate,”
admitted Tony.
“It is not all bad. In the winter, there is time to read, and my mother would
sing to us. She loves to sing.”
“One day we shall visit your farm. I would love to meet your family.”
“You truly wish to meet my family?” Tim asked in disbelief.
“You have told me so much about your mother, sister and stepfather that I feel
as if I know them already. I would be honored to meet them and see where you
spent the first thirteen years of your life.”
Tim stared at Tony, but saw only truth and sincerity in his eyes.
The pair saw Vance’s men stop ahead of them.
“It is early to stop for the night,” said Tim.
A moment later, Tony wheeled his horse around. “Ride, Tim, ride!”
Tim barely had Weatherby turned around when he heard the clash of swords and
turned to see Vance’s men had been engaged. When he turned back he saw Tony and
Victory galloping down the road. Dropping the lead line for the pack horse, he
urged Weatherby to follow after the Prince.
A snap of a tree branch startled Weatherby and he stopped short. Tim barely
caught himself before he fell. When he cued Weatherby to move, he realized
someone on the ground had grabbed hold of the reins. Tim drew his sword.
The moment his sword was drawn, he was surrounded. When he glanced down the
road, he saw that Tony and Victory had been captured in a net. Without thought
of his own safety, Tim leapt down from Weatherby’s saddle, fought past two men,
then ran to Tony’s side. The Prince was on his feet attempting to calm his
horse and free him from the netting.
Tim put himself between Tony and their attackers.
Several men moved in and surrounded them, some with swords, others with bows
and arrows.
“Stay behind me, Tony,” said Tim as he faced their attackers.
Tony pulled a pouch from beneath his tunic. “You want money, right?” he asked.
“Consider this a toll. It is payment for our safe passage through these woods.”
He tossed the pouch several feet in front of Tim. “All we ask is to be allowed
to continue on our journey.”
A gray-haired man eased his arrow from his bow and stepped closer. “Who are you
that you travel with an escort of the sheriff’s men?”
“We were not traveling with them, my good man. We were riding through the
forest and they passed us by.”
The man stepped forward and easily disarmed Tim, knocking him to the ground and
taking his sword. “This man protects you. That means you have wealth.”
“He is a devoted friend and like a younger brother to me. I would do the same
for him, if his horse was stuck in a net.”
The man approached Victory and patted his neck to calm him. Retrieving a knife
from his belt, he quickly freed the horse. “He is very beautiful.”
“He was a gift from my father.”
The man swatted Victory hard on his butt, sending him down the road and nodded
for Weatherby to be released as well. “Then back to your father he shall go.”
“You leave us on foot and without our supplies, my friend,” noted Tony, holding
back his anger.
“You have shoes.”
“I do. But my feet are not as swift as that of my horse.”
“What is your business?” demanded the man, who seemed to be the obvious leader
of the group.
“My father sent me to look at new stock. We were to bargain for new
bloodlines.”
“Your father must be a wealthy man.”
“I am certain there are wealthier.”
“I would bet he would pay quite well for the return of his only son.”
“Why do you think I am an only son?”
“I know who you are: Prince Anthony, heir to the throne.”
Tony sighed deeply. “You have me at a disadvantage.”
“They call me Gibbs. Jethro Gibbs.”
                       [Forest divider 1 by banbury.jpg]
***** Captured In The Forest *****
                        [NCIS Chapter background 4.jpg]
Being surrounded by Gibbs’ men, Tim and Tony had no choice other than
complying. Although Tony had never raised his sword, Gibbs lifted it from him
as well.
“You boys should always carry a knife,” mentioned Gibbs.
“A knife?” Tony asked.
“Or a dagger. You would find either to be invaluable. You could have cut your
horse free from the netting and might have fought off your attackers.”
“A knife would not be much good against a sword or arrow.”
“You would be surprised.”
Gibbs’ followers approached Tony and Tim, then forced them to walk along a
narrow path to a clearing.
Tony was amazed at how large the encampment was. “How do you hide all this from
the sheriff?” he asked.
“We move around when we need to and hide our paths from his eyes. The forest is
dense and the foliage is plentiful. It is not difficult to cover our tracks,”
explained Gibbs.
“Sheriff Vance seems quite determined to find you.”
“I used to be under his command in battle. I can sense when he is near.”
“You served in battle with Leon Vance?”
“He was rewarded with land and his job as a sheriff. My men and I were given
nothing more than our contracted pay. We fought hard, many giving their lives,
and yet we were given no land to farm, no animals to tend. No extra sum of
money to move on with our lives.”
“And this is why you rob people?” Tony asked.
“It is not all that simple,” said Gibbs. “Or perhaps it is. I do not see myself
as a robber so much as a redistributor of wealth.”
Tony smiled. “I like that. You are a hero to the poor. I have heard the tales.
You steal from the wealthy and give to the less fortunate.”
“The poor are hurting and dying. They work themselves to death and the wealthy,
who have much more than they need, take nearly everything. The poor must face
their children in winter and tell them there is nothing to eat, while the
wealthy do nothing but consume multiple courses and more pastry and tarts in a
week than any poor person would taste in their lifetime.”
“Are you saying the poor are not allowed to make tarts?”
“I am saying, they cannot possibly afford the ingredients. If they cannot grow
it on their farm, they do without. This way,” said Gibbs, motioning to a
structure near the center of the encampment.
Like everything else, it was uniquely hidden beneath living forest foliage and
blended in with the surrounding plants and trees.
Woven rugs covered portions of the hard-packed dirt floor. What drew Tony’s
attention was the huge bed frame carved from wood. “This is fabulous, Gibbs. Is
this your guest quarters?”
“We do not have a guest quarters. We usually just chain prisoners up at night
and let them sleep with the pigs.”
“You have pigs?” Tony asked.
Gibbs glared at the Prince. “I have given all that I have to the poor and
needy. These are my quarters. Since you are a prince, I thought I would do my
best to accommodate you.”
Tony approached the bed, studying the carvings, allowing his fingers to follow
the gentle carved arcs. “This is beautiful, really. Who crafted such a
masterpiece?”
“Me,” said Gibbs. “I enjoy working with wood.”
“It is difficult to believe you have the time, between making weapons, robbing
the wealthy and hiding from the law.”
“On the contrary, we have a lot of downtime. Carving the wood eases my mind.”
“And provides you with a nice place to lay your head.”
“Sleep does not come easily to me,” confessed Gibbs. “I worry about all the
people who do not have the food and medicine they need to survive.”
A woman’s voice came in through the doorway. “Gibbs! Gibbs! Gibbs!”
Tim recognized the woman. “Abby?”
“Thank God you are alright,” Abby said. “Gibbs, Tim is a friend, please do not
hurt him.”
Gibbs rolled his eyes. “I am not going to hurt him. Unless he tries to escape.”
“Oh, good. Tim, you will love it here.”
“Abby, why are you here?” asked Tim.
“People are suffering, Tim. You know that is true. The King does nothing for
his people even the ones willing to give up their lives for him.”
“That is not true. He gave a farm to my stepfather.”
“And what happened to the previous owner?” Abby questioned, her arms crossed.
“I heard he died in battle.”
“And what happened to his family?”
“They went to stay with relatives. The farm was abandoned.”
“Abandoned or stolen?”
Tim fell silent. He had never heard one way or another if the family intended
to return.
“I heard about all the good that Gibbs is doing and I came to help,” said Abby
as she laced her arm through Gibbs’ and leaned her head on his shoulder.
“You still work in the castle. They send you out to gather herbs in the
forest,” Tim said.
“And I do. I gather herbs and flowers for the castle. That is absolutely true.”
Tony looked Abby in the eye. “And you give Gibbs any news of the castle?”
“What do I know of? I work in the kitchen with the chefs. The only thing I can
tell Gibbs is what the King has been served for dinner.”
“There are many passageways. You could hide and listen to the King’s private
meetings.”
“Gibbs has no interest in the King’s business other than making sure everyone
has enough to survive.”
Tony looked between Tim and Abby before turning to Gibbs. “You knew I would be
riding through the forest.”
Gibbs smirked at him. “I could hear your chatter for an hour and could smell
you for half the day before we confronted you.”
Tim held back a chuckle.
“You stayed at a farm last night,” Gibbs continued. “It is just about a mile
from the edge of the forest. Nice family. You smell like their barn.”
“What are your intentions for us?” asked Tony.
“I have sent word to your father. When he pays your ransom, you will be free to
go. Until then, you and your squire will be my guests.”
Tony paced the room, eyeing the door and windows. It was built to leave options
for escape. “You mean to keep us in chains?”
“I have no need to keep you in chains.”
“How do you plan to prevent us from leaving on our own?”
“The men and women who follow me guard this camp every hour of the day and
night. They watch out for me. You could not get out of this cottage without
half the camp being aware of your movements. But if it makes you happy, I can
accommodate your desire to be chained up.”
“That is not necessary,” Tony conceded.
“Good.”
“I promise we will not try to escape. My word is my bond.”
“I am not worried about it. You would never make it out of the camp. And
Prince, if you do try to escape, then it will be my pleasure to put you in
chains.”
“Fair enough.”
Gibbs smiled. “Make yourselves at home,” he offered. “I have business to attend
to.”
Tim and Tony watched as Gibbs walked away, Abby at his side.
“How are we going to get out of here?” whispered Tim.
“We are not. Gibbs has sent word to my father. Surely he will pay any ransom
Gibbs has asked for. It is only a matter of time before we are released. Until
then, I am saved from making this trip to meet a potential bride. Here, we will
both live as princes.”
“Both of us?”
“If we are not allowed to leave this structure, then they will have to wait on
us hand and foot. Both of us,” Tony insisted.
“I do not think this will be as easy as you believe it will be.”
Tony returned to the bed and climbed on top of it. As he patted a portion of
the bed beside himself, he nodded at Tim. “Come on and join me.”
“In Gibbs’ bed?”
“He does not appear to be using it at present. And you heard him yourself. We
are to be his guests and to make ourselves at home. So, get over here. I am
weary from the trials of the day and wish to rest. You know I always sleep
better when you are at my side.”
                      [Forest divider123 by Banbury.jpg]
Two hours later, Gibbs returned and found the pair asleep in his bed.
He woke Tony first, then Tim. “Our supplies have arrived. I thought you might
be hungry.”
“You trust us to leave our prison?” Tony asked.
Gibbs chuckled. “This is not a prison. As I told you, these are my quarters.”
“So you said.”
“There is no reason to confine you to this building. We have guards watching
the perimeter at all times. As long as you do not try to escape, you are free
to roam the camp.”
The pair rolled out of the bed and followed Gibbs into the edge of the
encampment. There was a horse-drawn wagon being unloaded.
“Friar Duck?” Tony asked, recognizing the driver.
“Yes, my boy,” answered the older gentleman as he climbed down from the
driver’s seat.
“What are you doing here? With this man?”
“Gibbs? He is quite extraordinary, is he not?”
“He has taken Tim and me hostage.”
“Has he? Well, you were riding through his forest. Have you met my assistant,
Jimmy? My knees and back are no longer as good as those of a younger man.”
“His forest?” Tony questioned.
“All the farmland was given away. These people need somewhere to live. Gibbs
was quite a hero in battle, and yet he was given nothing for his sacrifice. He
has claimed the forest as his domain.”
“Sheriff Vance may have something to say about that.”
“Sheriff Vance is outnumbered and outmaneuvered by Gibbs at every turn. It is
quite simple, really. All Gibbs wants is for the wealthy to stop taking
advantage of the poor. Everyone should be able to have the opportunity to
provide basic needs for themselves and their families, but many of the wealthy
take advantage of those at their mercy; taking everything they have. Those who
toil all day do so to the benefit of the wealthy, not themselves. And what to
the wealthy do? They sit in their castles and estates eating more food than
most common people see in a month. They rich grow fat and lazy and if they want
more, they take it from the mouths of the poor.”
“It cannot be as bad as you say,” Tony said.
“How often do you ride out to see the people?” Gibbs asked.
“We go out and make appearances on occasion.”
“And the people are given flower petals to throw in your path and anyone who
dares not cooperate is punished. They might be flogged or kicked off of the
land they farm.”
“How can they be removed from what they own?”
“They do not really own it. All land belongs to the wealthy. The poor are only
given the right to grow their crops on it. Aside from having to pay for that
privilege, they are heavily taxed. They pay taxes on everything they grow and
everything they sell. What work does the wealthy do? Nothing. They sit on their
asses and grow fat on the work of others.”
Tony could not dispute Gibbs’ words. Having spent his life mostly on the castle
grounds or surrounded by guards, knights or nannies, he knew little of the day-
to-day hardships of the common people.
“One day you should ride out and talk to your people. Learn of their
struggles.”
“One day, I shall,” Tony promised.
“Come, then,” said Friar Duck. “We have a pig roasting and plenty of ale. Of
course, not all lords and landowners are bad. Some are quite generous of their
own accord.”
“But those who take advantage outweigh those who are generous,” added Gibbs.
“There are always poor in need of help.”
Tony nodded, seeing that the wagon was loaded down with barrels of ale and also
had two small pigs tied in back. Jimmy handed over a large sack to one of the
women, who opened it and began handing out loaves of dark bread.
Tony and Tim were pointed toward a long wooden table, with wooden stumps and
planks fashioned into seating. A few similar tables stood nearby. People
gathered around, filling the tables. As Tim and Tony looked around, they saw
other buildings hidden within the foliage, and assumed Gibbs’ followers lived
together as a village.
There were several women who tended the cooking fire and placed food and drink
before the men. Tony and Tim were each given a bowl of thick vegetable stew and
a plate with bread and chunks of pork. Mugs of ale were soon set before them as
well.
Gibbs sat at the end of the table and called to Tony. “One day soon we will
feast upon fresh deer meat in honor of your presence. I shall hunt it myself,
only if you promise not to tell your father, of course.”
His followers chuckled, knowing that it was forbidden to hunt the King’s deer.
And all deer within the kingdom were considered property of the King.
Tim noticed Abby sat at Gibbs’ side and seemed to hang on his every word.
“I cannot believe she is fawning all over him,” Tim whispered to Tony.
“Tim, I do believe this is the first time you have ever shown interest in a
woman.”
“I am not interested in her in that way. She is a friend. She helped me when I
first came to the castle.”
“Then what do you care if she pays attention to this Gibbs person?”
“I do not. Why would I?”
“There is the look of jealousy in your eyes.”
                      [Forest divider123 by Banbury.jpg]
After the meal, the sun dropped low and torches were lit. In the light of the
flames, various members of the group would step into a small clearing in front
of the tables and tell jokes or stories or sing. It reminded Tony of the
entertainers in the court of his father.
When the full moon rose in the sky, Gibbs approached his hostages and took
Tony’s arm. “It is time you got some rest, Your Highness.”
Tim followed the pair, even though nothing was said to him.
The moment they were inside the cottage, Gibbs pushed Tony against one of the
sturdy support beams and kissed him solidly. Tim’s mouth dropped open. Tony did
not fight back in the least. In fact, he was smiling when Gibbs backed away
from him.
“I was curious about you, Prince. You have an eye for men,” said Gibbs.
“Male or female makes no difference to me so long as their lips are sweet and
their bodies are warm.”
Gibbs nodded to Tim. “Does this one assist with the royal cock?”
“If I ask, he does my bidding.”
Gibbs looked Tim up and down, making him slightly uncomfortable. “Does he
prefer it in his mouth or his ass?”
Tony chuckled easily. “What is your interest in my squire?”
“Perhaps my interest is in both of you.”
“I have seen the beautiful women in the camp. Why does your eye stray to men?”
“I have had many women and many men. As you say, Prince, if their lips are
sweet and their bodies are warm, what difference does it make?”
Tony and Tim watched as Gibbs put aside his knife and removed his tunic.
“Entertain me,” he said as he approached his bed.
“What?” Tony asked.
“I wish to see for myself,” said Gibbs, nodding to Tim. “Are his lips as sweet
as they look?”
“You want me to kiss my squire?”
Gibbs nodded as he settled back. “And I wish to watch. Go ahead.”
Tony found the request oddly arousing. He had never had an audience before.
Even with the women he had bedded, his royal nannies and Tim had the decency to
position themselves outside his chambers until the young lady left.
Reaching forward, Tony slipped his hands underneath Tim’s tunic, pushing it
over his head. Taking Tim’s hand, he led him a few feet away from Gibbs bed.
There was no mattress or coverings, only a woven tapestry covering the hard
packed dirt floor.
Tony gently positioned Tim on the floor and slowly kissed him. His hand ran
along Tim’s pale skin as it had so many times before. Tonight was different.
There was an excitement pumping blood through his veins, knowing that Gibbs was
watching them.
In a few minutes, Tony felt his cock harden and he began grinding against Tim’s
thigh.
“You have done this before,” Gibbs said, his voice a bare whisper.
Tony looked up to see his host lying on his bed, hand pumping his own cock as
he watched.
“We have kissed often. When he became my page, he was not given his own
quarters, so he has always shared mine.”
“And your bed?”
“My bed is large and soft. It seemed a waste to force Tim to sleep on the cold,
stone floor while half my bed was unused.”
“When did you lie with him the first time?”
“We have not lain together. Not as you ask,” admitted Tony. “Tim is my friend,
and is like a younger brother to me.”
“You would kiss a sibling?”
“If their lips were warm on a chilly night, why not?”
“I can tell he would give himself to you. I am curious, why you have not taken
what is offered?”
“I never thought to force anyone to take my cock. It does not seem right to
me.”
“Wealthy men force themselves on women all the time.” Gibbs nearly growled the
words.
“I am not one of those men. I have never forced myself on anyone,” Tony
divulged. “It gives me no pleasure to force myself on anyone. I only want what
is given to me freely.”
Gibbs moved to one side of his bed. “There is no reason you should lie on a
bare floor all night. There is plenty of room for you both.”
Tony did not need to be asked twice. He was mesmerized by Gibbs and willingly
climbed into his bed. Gibbs cupped Tony’s head in his hands and kissed him.
Beneath the covers, he took Tony’s hand and wrapped it around his cock, then
began grinding his hip and pumping his cock into Tony’s hand until he came.
When he rolled onto his back, he closed his eyes. “Tim, douse the lamps and
come to bed.”
Tim slowly rose to his feet, put out the lamps, then climbed into the bed
beside Tony. When the Prince rolled over, Tim could feel he was wet and sticky.
His own cock instantly took notice. He remained awake for half the night
wishing his cock would go limp.
As if he knew, Gibbs rolled to his side and threw an arm around Tony, who was
between him and Tim. “You can do whatever you want to do here, so long as you
hurt no one and do not attempt to leave the camp.”
Tim still did not feel right stroking his cock with Gibbs on the other side of
the bed, so he turned away from the others, lying at the edge of the bed. Tony
sidled up behind him, wrapping an arm around his waist and licking his ear.
“You can take care of it now,” Tony whispered, “or I will take care of it in
the morning.”
                        [Forest Gibbs 1 by banbury.jpg]
***** An Awakening In The Forest *****
                        [NCIS Chapter background 5.jpg]
When Tim awoke the next morning, he had a noticeable hard on, still. Reaching
down, he began pumping his shaft, then realized Gibbs was across the room,
sitting at a table and assembling arrows.
“Do not stop on my account,” said Gibbs, his eyes still focused on affixing a
feather to the end of an arrow.
“I was just…” Tim stammered.
“I know what you were doing. It is natural. It would be a shame to injure your
shaft.”
“How would I injure it?” Tim asked.
“Walking into a tree perhaps,” Gibbs replied. Just then he snapped an arrow
shaft in two before tossing it aside. “I suspect damaging your own cock would
be much more painful.”
Tim swallowed. “I suppose. I usually fetch water for Prince Anthony and bring
him his breakfast. Is there a well nearby, and someone I could see about food
for the Prince?”
Gibbs chuckled. “The nearest well is miles away.”
“Then how is Prince Anthony expected to wash his face and scrape his beard? How
do you expect to ransom him back to his father if you do not return him in his
normal state of wellbeing?”
Gibbs nodded. There was something of value in allowing the Prince to maintain
his normal habits. “The good Friar Duck hauls in barrels of water, wine and ale
for us. You may see him if you wish.”
“And breakfast?”
“Ask the Friar. He can point you in the right direction.”
“If the Prince awakens, please tell him I will return shortly.”
“All over that,” said Gibbs as he continued with his work.
Once outside, Tim looked around to where Friar Duck had arrived the day before.
The wagon carrying the barrels was still there, but the horses were tied
several feet away in the makeshift stables.
Tim looked through the stalls and found the Friar sleeping atop a blanket laid
across several inches of hay.
“Excuse me? Friar Duck?”
“Yes? Yes, my boy?”
“Gibbs said I should talk to you.”
Standing up, the Friar shook out his blanket and folded it. “Do you mind
helping me feed the horses while we chat? Jimmy’s wife, Breena, is expecting
their first child, and he wishes to be with her when the time comes. That
leaves me with extra chores to do.”
“I am happy to help. I did not realize they kept so many horses here.”
“Aye. It is much faster going astride a horse.”
“Yes, it is,” Tim agreed.
“What is it you wanted to discuss?”
“Well, Friar…”
“Please, call me Ducky.”
“Okay. Ducky. I take care of Prince Anthony. In the mornings, I draw water
before he wakes and I also retrieve his breakfast.”
“After we feed the horses, I can give you a bit of water, but it is a scarce
commodity this far into the forest.”
“Is it true that you haul all of their water, wine and ale?”
“Aye. Along with straw, grain and hay for the horses.”
“Where do you get it all?”
“Mostly, it is donated.”
“Donated or stolen?” Tim asked.
Ducky paused and stared at Tim. “My dear boy, thieves must travel light. With
this heavy wagon and my old team, I could not possibly outrun anyone.”
“What about this place? How can they pack up and move?”
“Gibbs has a few outposts scattered about. They are all similar to this one. He
is a master at disguising the encampments so they are not seen by most. Even
their trails through the forests are disguised and difficult to find or follow
unless you know where they are.”
“So they do not pack much when they move on?”
“Very little. Any food that would spoil and a bit of clothing. Everything else
is hidden away for their return.”
After the horses were fed, Ducky handed Tim a pitchfork. “If you do not mind.
The work gets more difficult as I age.”
Nodding again, Tim assisted in cleaning the stalls, putting the manure and
soiled straw in a bucket, and carrying it a fair distance from the camp to be
dumped.
He had worked up a sweat by the time Ducky handed him a bowl and led him to one
of the barrels. The bowl was smaller, and not nearly as nice as what the Prince
was used to, but it would have to do.
“What about food?”
“Follow me.”
Tim followed Ducky to what passed as a communal kitchen of sorts. A handful of
women were sorting out bread while others were chopping vegetables and putting
them into large pots simmering over open fires.
Ducky rummaged through some of the stores and handed Tim a platter with two
small loaves of rye bread and a chunk of cheese.
“There is no meat?” asked Tim.
“Not unless you or the Prince cares to hunt some game in the forest and bring
it to us. Gibbs keeps everyone on strict rations. We rely on donated foods and
often the people have little to give.”
“Gibbs was making arrows. Does he not hunt?”
“Aye. He hunts quite a bit. And then he gives it to those less fortunate,”
Ducky explained.
“Gibbs and his followers do not appear to be terribly fortunate themselves.
They have no way to grow their own food and they are being searched for by the
sheriff and any number of bounty hunters. I have seen the reward posters.”
“Gibbs never fails to supply the basic needs for his followers. And his
concerns lie more with others than with his own comforts.”
“I see.”
After bidding good day to Ducky, Tim returned to Gibbs’ cottage and found Tony
sitting at the table with Gibbs. They were both attaching feathers to the ends
of arrows. Gibbs suddenly snapped another shaft in half, tossing it aside.
“What was wrong with that one?” Tony asked.
“When you have shot as many arrows as I have, you learn the look of a shaft
that will fly straight and one that will not.”
Tony chuckled. “And you prefer the straight ones, made from hardwood?”
Gibbs joined him in his laughter, then leaned close enough to nuzzle Tony’s
neck. “I prefer both my arrows and my cocks straight and hard.”
“Are these cock feathers you use to make the shafts fly straight?”
“We use various feathers. Most are from geese. They are easier to obtain than
some and they do a fine job. If you watch an archer closely, you may realize
that arrows tend to fly in arcs rather than straight lines. And in fact, they
spin as they fly. This is why it is important to have the feathers match as
closely as possible. If they are different sizes or are not attached properly,
your arrow may fail to hit your target.”
“I have been taught a bit of archery. At least enough to go on the royal hunts.
I was taught to defend myself with a sword and dagger.”
“And you consider yourself a fine swordsman?” Gibbs asked.
“I have been practicing for years. I am better at handling a sword than most.”
“I imagine you are.”
Tim cleared his throat and placed the bowl of water and the plate of bread and
cheese on the table. “I brought the water for your morning ablutions, my
Prince. The food is for all of us.”
“No ale?” asked Tony.
“I will return with the ale before you have finished shaving your whiskers.”
Tim bowed before leaving again.
“Are you really going to make him wait on you as if you were still in a
castle?”
“It is his place as my squire. Tim needs routines. You will see, he gets
flustered easily if a routine is broken. Do you have a blade that I could use
to scrape my whiskers? My possessions were on our packhorse, which you allowed
to run away.”
Gibbs grabbed a knife and tossed it hard enough that it stuck in the table in
front of Tony.
“You do not fear that I have a sharp blade within my reach?” Tony questioned.
“I have a hundred weapons close at hand,” Gibbs disclosed.
“Still, you believe I will not harm you, given the opportunity?”
“You have yet to prove your fighting skills to me,” said Gibbs as he began
moving the arrows and materials out of their way.
“You are willing to take such a chance?”
Even as Tony held the knife in his hand, Gibbs quickly and easily took the
Prince down to the floor, disarming him as he did so. “I do not think you have
much of a chance, Prince.”
“I was not expecting you to attack.”
“Few enemies will give you advanced warning.” Reaching out his hand, Gibbs
helped Tony right his chair and put the blade back in his hand. “I am surprised
you do not grow a beard,” Gibbs said as he took his own seat.
“My father believes beard-wearing is for those who cannot afford a proper
shaving blade.”
Gibbs placed a cup beside Tony. “It is a lather that Friar Duck makes. It helps
with a clean and pain-free shave.”
“As long as the blade is sharp, I shall be fine.”
Gibbs smirked. “I keep all my blades sharp. A man is not a threat against his
enemies if his blade will not puncture their skin.”
Tim returned with three mugs of ale in time to see Gibbs dabbing at the
Prince’s face.
“Did you cut yourself, Your Highness?” Tim asked with concern. “I can make a
poultice to stop the bleeding.”
Gibbs waved him off. “I have it taken care of. Sit down. Eat.” Gibbs broke the
bread into chunks, then sliced the cheese and offered it to his guests.
“No meat?” questioned Tony.
“There is not enough meat for every meal,” Gibbs explained.
Tony was disappointed. “There is at the castle.”
“Once the King pays your ransom, you will return to your castle with your
bathing tubs, clean clothes and meat at every meal.”
“I had not mentioned a bathing tub.”
Gibbs reached for his ale. “It was only a matter of time.”
Tony’s smile soon returned. “My tub is large enough for two.”
“Aye. The way the wealthy eat, you will need a tub large enough for two people
in no time.”
Looking down, Tony lifted his tunic and patted his stomach. “I am not fat.”
Gibbs smirked and reached out to cup Tony’s chin. “Yet.”
“Do you have a place to practice your archery skills?”
“We have a practice field nearby.”
“Will you allow me to shoot a bow and arrow, Gibbs?”
“If you wish, Prince.”
Reaching over, Tony picked up an arrow he had worked on. “I would like to see
how it flies; one that I put together myself. Can they be reused once fired?”
“Sometimes, if the shaft is not broken or damaged. We usually practice by
shooting into bales of straw. It is difficult to dislodge an arrow from a tree
without damaging it.”
“Or one used for hunting, I would imagine.”
“If you missed your shot and the arrow is found on the ground, it is usually
fine. Once it hits an animal, or a man, there is a difficulty in attempting to
remove it intact and there is also the nasty business of blood.”
“I would imagine that you rarely miss a shot,” Tony ventured.
“My arrows are true,” replied Gibbs, taking more bread.
After they ate, Gibbs gathered several arrows into a quiver and brought along
his bow. “Come.”
“How will I know if you give me an arrow you put together, or one that I
assembled?”
Gibbs chuckled lightly. “I can tell the difference.”
They made a stop at a shed near where the horses were kept, where Gibbs picked
up a couple other bows, with quivers of arrows. He handed one set each to Tim
and to Tony. They followed him as they walked a narrow path through the trees
for quite a distance until the forest path opened up to a glade. Other archers
were already there, shooting arrows at the targets.
The targets were animal skins stretched across bales of straw. Each had a
bullseye drawn on the center and most had other drawings, as well. Most were
deer, or other animals, but Tony saw a couple he was certain were likenesses of
Sheriff Vance.
“How often do you practice?”
“We shoot quite often. That is the best way to hone and maintain one’s skill,”
said Gibbs as he lined up a shot, then released an arrow.
Tim and Tony watched the arrow soar toward the target, hitting the center.
Stepping forward, Tony settled the notch of the arrow onto the bow string,
pulling it taut. “You make it look easy, Gibbs.”
“It is easy, if you have the skill.”
Tony released the arrow. It hit the target, but was far to one side.
“Not bad, Prince,” said Gibbs.
“But I need more practice?” asked Tony as he took a few steps toward the bales
of straw, meaning to retrieve his arrow.
Gibbs quickly grabbed his arm. “More practice first. And do not walk down the
field while anyone is shooting.”
“I am surprised you think someone would miss a target by that much. That is
what you meant, right? Beware of bad shots?”
“Aye. You never know when someone will fire wildly. A bow or string could snap.
An archer may be startled suddenly, and release their arrow unintentionally and
not properly aimed. It would be a terrible tragedy to shoot someone during
practice.”
“I shall endeavor to make sure none of your group feels that pain while I am
enjoying your hospitality.”
“Your hide is valuable, Prince, but worth more if still alive and without
punctures.”
“I would imagine that if I died in your care, my father would send all his men
to burn down the forest and kill anyone attempting to escape.”
“I would hate to put him to so much trouble,” teased Gibbs as he motioned for
Tim to step forward and take a shot.
“We are your prisoners, and yet you arm us?” asked Tim. “What is to prevent me
from aiming for your heart?”
“My team keeps a careful watch over me, and they are extremely protective. The
moment you begin to point an arrow at me, you would find yourself a target. My
followers are well trained and sure of their shots. You would be dead before
you released an arrow.”
Tim gulped deeply and eyed the other archers. It was true that many who were
not actually taking aim for the targets themselves at that moment, were keeping
an eye on Gibbs and his guests. Tim’s hand shook slightly and his shot went
wide of the target.
“Focus, Tim. Think of your very life depending on each shot. Take your time.
Settle your breathing. Shoot only when you are sure of your target.”
Tim nodded quickly.
Walking up behind Tim, Gibbs shifted him into position, pressing against him
with his own body. His lips were near Tim’s ear as he said softly. “Relax your
shoulders, breathe steadily. When you are ready to shoot, hold your breath and
release the arrow.”
With assistance from Gibbs, Tim’s arrow hit the target slightly above the
center.
Grinning, Tony asked, “Are you going to help me aim a shot, Gibbs?”
“Would you like me to, Prince?”
“Yes. You appear to be an excellent teacher.”
As Gibbs centered himself behind Tony, he pressed his cock forward.
“Shall I shoot where your cock is pointed?” Tony teased.
“Not unless you want a pain in your ass,” Gibbs quickly replied.
“I meant, in that direction.”
“Just focus on the target for now.”
“You tend to be a distraction.”
“Are you such a pain in the ass with your other instructors?” questioned Gibbs,
as he lightly smacked the back of Tony’s head.
“Hey, now. And none of my teachers are as attractive as you. You should see Sir
Tobias. Bald as can be. I like my men with hair. My ladies, too.”
“Sir Tobias Fornell?” Gibbs asked.
“Yes. He is a knight in my father’s court and instructs me in archery, amongst
other subjects. Do you know of him?”
Gibbs laughed lightly. “He married my former wife, Diane.”
“I do not think he is married any longer. I know of no wife he has within the
castle walls.”
“That does not surprise me. She refused to live this life in the forest. She
wanted a home and a husband there to care for her. I imagine she tired of
Tobias riding off to battles, and finally married a shopkeeper or farmer who
would be home each night.”
The trio continued taking turns firing arrows at the target. After a few
minutes, the shooting stopped and most of the archers walked across the field
to retrieve the arrows.
Practice went on well into the morning. Finally Gibbs nodded to the path
leading back to the encampment. Again, everyone sat at the long tables as the
women set food before them. Tim and Tony were pleased to see some meat
supplied.
“Wild hare?” Tony asked.
Gibbs nodded. “It is less trouble to shoot them than to keep and feed them.”
“I am pleased you do not feel the same way about me.”
Smiling, Gibbs reached out and touched Tony’s cheek. “Do not doubt that you are
trouble, Your Highness, but a good sort of trouble.”
“I will bet I am far more fun to have around than a rabbit.”
“We shall see.”
“I wish you had captured my packhorse. Not only did it carry my clothes and
other personal items, but we also had much food packed for our trip.”
“Your horses will have returned to the castle by now.”
“You said you sent a ransom demand. Have you received any word from my father?”
“Not yet.”
“Nothing? How long must I stay here?” Tony asked.
“As long as it takes,” Gibbs replied sharply.
“Was the messenger sent on horse or on foot? The sooner he receives the
message, the quicker my father will reply and send payment.”
“I was hoping you were enjoying my hospitality.”
“I have business to attend to,” Tony insisted.
Gibbs raised his eyebrows. “Is there a ballroom dance coming up soon?”
“You mock me?”
“Is there a reason to mock a man in fine clothing prancing around a hall while
the common people are starving and struggling to survive? You have never known
true hunger.”
“You will have me believe that your taking me hostage will solve their
problems?”
“It is simple as I see it,” said Gibbs. “The wealthy have more than they need
and do little for it. Giving a small portion of what they have will make a
great difference to the poor.”
“And if they will not give it on their own, you will kindly lift it from them?”
“I can redistribute it and it will change lives and possibly save lives. It can
give children of the poor a chance to survive into adulthood.”
“And for what?” Tony asked. “To have more children they cannot afford to feed?”
“By that thinking, there is no reason for the poor to live at all. Their lives
are a struggle, but their joys are worth the hardships. Without the poor, where
would the wealthy be?”
“You think the wealthy need the poor?”
Gibbs nodded slowly and looked Tony in the eye. “Without the poor, who would
grow the food, toil in the fields, care for the animals, make your clothing and
wait on you hand and foot?”
“By your reasoning, the wealthy give the poor a purpose for their lives.”
“No, there are many who take advantage of the poor and cause them misery.”
“They govern the poor. They supply the land and structure to society,” said
Tony.
“They abuse the poor. They rape the women and break the backs of men.”
“Without the wealthy, the poor would run amok.” Tony raised his voice slightly
and pounded the table as his anger grew.
“Without the poor, the wealthy would not survive since they would refuse to
lift a finger to help themselves. Most have no real skills. They would not be
able to plant fields or bring in a harvest. They could not sew their own
clothing nor make their own food. The poor can provide for their families. What
is killing them are the high rents and taxes demanded by the wealthy.”
Tony thought for a moment. Looking at the loaf of bread, he realized that it
was true. He had no idea how to make bread himself.
Gibbs leaned closer, putting his hand over the Prince’s. “You do not know how
to make bread, ale or cheese. Do you?”
“I do not,” Tony admitted.
“Nor do you know how to shear a sheep or make thread for clothing.”
“You would have me believe that if the poor were suddenly gone, I would be
running around naked and pulling berries from trees?”
Gibbs smiled at the thought. “You would have to learn to care for yourself. If
you were a poor man, you would already know these things.”
Turning around, Tony faced Tim. “Do you know how to make bread, cheese and
ale?”
“I know how to grind grain for bread and have watched my mother and sister make
it. I have made cheese for my mother, and ale with my father,” Tim said.
“And can you shear a sheep?” Tony asked.
“I have done so, although I am not greatly skilled at the task.”
Turning back to Gibbs, Tony said, “Tim will take care of me. And I have hunted
before.”
Gibbs laughed aloud. “On these hunts, have you located and tracked the prey
yourself or did a poor servant do those things for you?”
Tony stared silently at Gibbs.
“We do not simply wait in the forest for animals to come forth and give
themselves to us willingly. When you truly are a hunter, you must read the
signs. You must be able to tell how old an animal’s tracks and feces are, and
you must know how to track the animal even if there are no prints to be seen.
You must be patient, and a good shot, or you will starve. What you have done is
shot at an animal that someone else has tracked and located for you. They might
as well have handed it to you on a silver platter.”
“I study. My craft is to be a leader of men. I have faced battle and have come
out unscathed.”
“No doubt your father sent several knights to ride with you as your personal
guards. While other men battle, the knights are there only for your protection.
If you are killed, no doubt their lives are forfeit due to their failure. You
have no sense of being a common man.”
“I am not a common man,” Tony declared loudly.
“Until you understand the common man, how do you expect to lead and govern
them? The wealthy sit in their ivory towers with a skewed view of the world. If
you walked in the world of the common man for even a fortnight, you would gain
such knowledge you could never acquire from a book.”
“Will you teach me?”
“I can try.”
                          [Forest Tim by banbury.jpg]
***** Two Roads Diverged In A Wood *****
                        [NCIS Chapter background 6.jpg]
 
After the midday meal, Tony asked Tim about where he got the water and food
earlier in the morning. Tim led the way to the stables, greeting Friar Duck
when they arrived.
Tony eyed the Friar suspiciously. “Are you the messenger sent to alert my
father of my capture?”
“No, I am not. I was on my way here when you were captured. I am pleased to see
you are well, Prince Anthony.”
“Why are you here?” Tony asked.
“He brings them water, wine and ale in barrels and also hauls in feed, bedding
and livestock,” Tim explained.
Tony walked slowly, patting the horses as he passed them and inspecting the
pigs and sheep in the small pens. “You surprise me, Friar Duck.”
“How so, my Prince?”
“By helping these outlaws.”
“My dear boy, it is all a matter of perspective. I have devoted my life to
helping those in need. What Gibbs and his followers do is help the poor. It
sickens me that all the money given to the church is spent on buying fine
things for the cardinals and priests. That money should be spent on easing the
pain of the people.”
“There will always be pain and suffering,” said Tony.
“More so for the poor, than for the wealthy.”
“Disease attacks us all.”
“True, but the poor suffer from an insufficient diet, with little or nothing to
eat, and weakened bodies from all the labor they do. They cannot afford to have
a physician tend to them or provide them with medicine.”
“There are so many people. You cannot save them all.”
Ducky nodded. “Aye, but we can save some of them. Like Gibbs, I have also taken
a vow of poverty, and a vow to help and protect others.”
“By helping him, you target yourself as a criminal.”
Ducky chuckled. “Me? A criminal? I deliver donated goods to those in need. I
have stolen nothing from anyone.”
“You know that Gibbs and his band are wanted outlaws and yet you help to feed
and hide them.”
“I have witnessed no crimes,” Ducky insisted.
“Then you walk with blinders on.”
“But I tread on solid ground, my boy.”
“Meaning?” asked Tony.
“I know the path I am to take and I am on it. You, my dear boy, I believe are
still looking for the path you are meant to travel in this lifetime. Gibbs may
have done you a favor by unhorsing you.”
“How so?”
“He has forced you to slow down and see what is around you. Life moves by so
swiftly as you trot along on that beautiful white stallion of yours. He could
do you a service by taking your shoes, so you would slow down further and feel
every pebble and twig you come across.”
“And walking on twigs and pebbles will help me?” Tony wondered.
“Perhaps. A wise man once put a pebble in his shoe so he could better
understand the struggles of others. Walking barefooted through the forest may
help you to become more sympathetic to the struggles of others, as well. Your
life will be far richer if you serve the people you govern, when you are king,
rather than expecting them to serve you.”
“That sounds like something Gibbs would say.”
“Aye,” Ducky agreed. “That it does.”
“So all these animals, the horses, pigs, chickens and sheep, are all donated?”
“For the most part. Some are purchased with monetary donations. Some of Gibbs’
followers brought what they had and donated everything, including their
animals, to the cause.”
Tim demonstrated to Tony how to remove the top of the barrel and ladle water
into the bowl.
“There is no sense in filling it all the way,” explained Tim. “If there is too
much water in the bowl, you will only spill it.”
“Good tip. And where would we find the food?”
Tim led the way to where the women watched over the cooking fires. “It smells
good, does it not?”
Tony crinkled his nose. “Sure, great.”
The women laughed.
“What sort of pottage is this?” Tony asked as he peered into a large cauldron.
“That is the wash,” he was informed by one of the cooks, who seemed amused by
his mistake. “Dinner will be a nice mutton stew. It is in honor of Your
Highness’ stay with us.”
“I appreciate your hospitality,” he said, tactfully.
As Tony and Tim walked away, they surveyed the edge of the encampment.
“We should attempt an escape while they are not watching us so closely,”
whispered Tim.
“You would not get very far,” a woman’s voice said.
Tim froze in place wondering where the voice was coming from. A moment later, a
knife was thrown close to him, landing solidly in a nearby tree trunk. A woman
dropped from a branch of a tree to retrieve the knife.
“I am Ziva, one of the perimeter guards. You will not get past me,” she
promised. “And if you try, I shall have to wound you and drag you back.”
Tim swallowed deeply. “That hardly seems worth it, then.”
Tony nodded back toward the main part of the camp, and Tim immediately
followed.
“We are doomed,” Tim said.
Tony rolled his eyes. “We will be fine. My father will send the ransom and we
will be away from here soon enough. Until then, we will survive on these
people’s hospitality. Tell me something, Tim.”
“Yes, my Prince?”
“Is this the sort of food you ate before you came to the castle to live?”
“Oh yes. We were fortunate and our farm did well.”
“It is so much cheese and bread and so few meats, sweets or any real variety.”
“That is true, but that is all the poor can afford. Gibbs is correct that
families must survive on what they grow. And they have to give much of it to
the landowner and more to the royal family.”
                      [Forest divider123 by Banbury.jpg]
A short time later, Tim followed Tony back to visit Friar Duck once more.
“Friar,” Tony began, “Would you allow me a taste of wine?”
Ducky grabbed a jug and filled it with wine before handing it over to the
Prince. “Fortunately for you, this crowd has more of a taste for ale than wine,
which leaves plenty of wine for you and me.”
“Thank you, kind sir.”
“It is my pleasure to serve you, Prince Anthony.”
As they returned to Gibbs’ cottage, Tim asked, “What did you want the wine
for?”
“If I am to be stuck in this place, I see no reason to not enjoy what little
comforts they have available here.”
Tony uncorked the jug and took a swig, then offered it to Tim. “Go on. It will
make you feel better.”
“I am not sure about that,” Tim responded, remembering the first time he got
sick from drinking too much wine.
“Not bad,” said Tony.
The pair drank a little wine, then crawled into Gibbs’ bed, falling asleep
beside each other.
                      [Forest divider123 by Banbury.jpg]
A couple hours later, Gibbs went to wake the pair. Leaning over the bed, he
brushed back Tony’s bangs and lightly kissed his forehead. As the Prince began
to stir, Gibbs planted a kiss on Tim’s temple.
“Time for supper and the night’s entertainment.”
Tony giggled. “If we were in the castle, we might have an evening of knights’
entertainment.”
“I have never found Tobias to be all that entertaining,” Gibbs said.
“It is true that the knights are usually a serious bunch, but after a few
chalices of wine, they are quick to laugh and are known to tell a dirty story
or two. We have actors, too. They recently performed a play about you.”
“Did they? And what was this play about?” questioned Gibbs.
“They portrayed you and your band of robbers as attacking the wealthy in the
forest and taking their money and jewels.”
“How did it end?”
“Sheriff Vance hunted you down, dragged you back to the castle and had you
hanged.”
“Let us hope that ending remains a fictional portrayal. Mutton stew, in your
honor, my Prince” said Gibbs, with a slight bow.
“I never know when you are being serious or mocking me, Gibbs.”
“I like to keep you guessing, Prince.”
“Any word from my father?”
“Not yet. Perhaps he is counting out his money.”
Tony rose from the bed. “He has people to do that for him.”
“I am certain that he does,” Gibbs agreed.
At supper, Tony asked if he and Tim could be served wine instead of ale. “I
detest mixing the two,” said Tony. “It always causes my stomach grief.”
“And Tim?” Gibbs questioned.
“It makes him spew like a royal fountain,” Tony divulged.
The pair laughed easily together. When it turned dark and Tony shivered, Gibbs
closed the distance between them and wrapped an arm around the Prince’s
shoulder.
“The evening often brings a chill. You should dress more warmly,” suggested
Gibbs.
“How can I? You allowed my packhorse to run off with my extra clothing.”
“Are you planning to whine about your runaway packhorse for the rest of your
stay with us?”
“It may seem like nothing to you, but to me it is a hardship to be without my
basic necessities.”
“Then you may be well on your way to understanding what other people must face
on a daily basis.”
Tony settled his head against Gibbs’ shoulder. “Sure, it is a wonderful
experience.”
“It can be, if you allow it to be.”
                      [Forest divider123 by Banbury.jpg]
They watched into the evening as Gibbs’ followers recited poems, performed acts
from plays, told jokes and sang songs to entertain each other. Well before they
were done, Tony nodded off against Gibbs’ shoulder.
It was a cool, clear night full of stars shining above them. As Gibbs’
followers began to drift away, heading for their own beds, Tim shook Tony’s
knee. “Prince? It is time to go inside.”
“I can carry him if needed,” said Gibbs as he pulled Tony to his feet.
Tony wrapped his arms around Gibbs’ neck and kissed him fully on the lips.
“Sweet. You taste like wine and mutton stew.”
Gibbs smiled. “It is time for you to go to bed.”
“Are you coming with me?”
“Yes, we are all going to bed.”
After pulling Tony’s arms from his neck, Gibbs put an arm around Tony’s waist
and guided him back to the cottage.
“And tonight, you two cannot sleep in your clothing.”
“It is all we have,” Tim pointed out.
“If you are here long enough, perhaps we will work on that. But for now, you
cannot continue to wear the same clothing day after day without removing it. It
is beginning to smell.”
Gibbs undressed and used a small towel and a bowl of water to wash his body.
“You two should undress and clean yourselves before coming to bed. Tomorrow, I
shall see if there is any spare clothing around that might fit you.”
Gibbs settled into bed and watched as the pair undressed. Lamplight flickered
as Tim washed Tony before attending to himself. They used the same water and
towel that Gibbs had used, neither one complaining about it.
Tony took the middle of the bed again, snuggling up against Gibbs, leaving Tim
the other side of the bed.
“Do you think you will hear from my father tomorrow?”
Placing his arm around Tony, Gibbs pulled him close, kissing his temple, but
did not say a word.
                      [Forest divider123 by Banbury.jpg]
When he awoke the next morning, Tony found himself wrapped in Gibbs strong
arms. Tender kisses peppered his neck until he giggled softly.
“What if Tim wakes up?”
Gibbs looked over Tony, to Tim, still asleep on the far side of the bed. “He
does normally awaken before you. Shall I check to see that he still breathes?”
“He is still breathing. A night of drinking wine allows him to sleep later the
next morning.”
“Then perhaps we should give him wine more often,” suggested Gibbs.
“Are you saying you would like more time alone with me?”
“It is a rare commodity with your squire around.”
“It is his responsibility to be at my side, to care for my needs and to protect
me.”
Gibbs chuckled lightly. “Yet you find yourself captured.”
“Captured, at your mercy, naked and in your bed.” Looking into Gibbs’ eyes,
Tony smiled and rubbed his arm, before moving on to his chest. “I do find
myself attracted to you.”
“If only your father could see you now.”
Tony groaned. “I would hope not. I would hate to find myself in a position of
Prince Edmund.”
“What position did Prince Edmund find himself in?” asked Gibbs.
“The rumor is, Edmund had a male lover, one to whom he gave a job of consul.
His father did not approve and tossed Edmund’s lover out a window to his
death.”
“Tragic. Is that why you have not bedded Tim?”
Turning, Tony looked at his peacefully sleeping squire. “He was just a boy when
he was given to me.”
“He loves you deeply. I can see it in his eyes,” Gibbs revealed.
“Tim is driven by duty.”
“It is more than that. I see lust in his eyes. He wants to be with you.”
“Do you think so?”
“Yes, I do.”
“He has never said as much, although he does seem to take pleasure in stroking
my cock when I allow him to do so.”
“Is he allowed to do so often?”
“When I am too lazy to take care of it myself,” Tony admitted with a smile. “He
has shared my bed since he came to stay with me.”
“Really? And your father is aware of this?”
“I have no idea. I had three royal nannies before Tim was given to me. They
each had their own quarters. Tim said he was not given any quarters, so I
assumed he was meant to stay with me around the clock. I saw no reason to make
him sleep on a stone floor when I had such a large bed.”
“You show more kindness than most of the royals.”
“My nannies taught me to think of others. My mother was kind to others as well.
I learned from her example.”
“Your father has had little influence on you?”
“I saw him only rarely, except for meals and banquets, until after my mother
died. Then there was a time he decided I should attend his court when they
discussed battles and taxes. He said it was time I learned what it meant to be
a king.”
“And he has taught you to rule over others?” wondered Gibbs.
Tony thought for a moment before he answered. “He mostly asks me to sit in
silence while he speaks with his advisers.”
“So you have learned nothing?”
“I have instructors. I have been taught many things including battle tactics.
He has made me a commander.”
“Do you have any siblings?”
“No. My father married several times after my mother died, but he never
fathered another child.”
“He is protective of you. If you are killed in battle, his line dies with you.”
“This trip Tim and I were taking was to meet a princess. My father means to
marry me to align two kingdoms.”
“That is the way of the royals. It would not do for you to marry a common
woman.”
“I have seen the women my father has married. I do not see love in their eyes.
At some point he tires of them and they are killed or divorced. I do not wish
to live like that. He says it is not safe for me to be outside the castle
grounds. I am to have Tim taste my food in case it has been poisoned.”
“You have not done so here.”
“I have seen the food prepared. I see nothing being tampered with between the
cooking area and the table. It also would not do for you to try to ransom a
corpse. I imagine my father will not pay unless he is assured I am still
alive.”
“Although he may not pay for a corpse, I would think he would want you back
dead or alive.”
“Much as Sheriff Vance wants you?” Tony asked.
“And now you are mocking me?”
“Not at all. I want you, too. But only alive.”
“Do you intend to tease me still?”
“I am not teasing you at all,” said Tony as he leaned forward to kiss Gibbs.
“What must I do to prove to you that I am not?”
“Allow me to take you.”
“I will allow it,” Tony replied before kissing Gibbs again.
Breaking the kiss, Gibbs went across the room to retrieve some oil and used it
to slick his cock as Tony watched with interest.
“Why do you think my father would want my corpse?” Tony asked.
“To give you a proper burial, of course. And perhaps to be assured that you are
indeed dead and not living as a criminal in these woods yourself.”
“That is an interesting thought. You are a very well-proportioned man, Gibbs,”
Tony said, admiring him from across the room.
“As are you.”
“Then I suppose we should fit perfectly together.”
After rubbing some oil on his hands, Gibbs returned to the bed. “And this is
your interest in me? My body?”
“I find you to be a very fascinating man.”
“How so?”
“You are so dedicated to your cause. You have given up everything, live as if
you have taken a vow of poverty, yet you are no monk.”
“No, I am not.”
Rolling Tony over, Gibbs rubbed oil around his hole, then began to massage his
back.
“That feels nice,” said Tony, closing his eyes.
“Have you been with a man before?”
“I have been with many men.”
“Have you ever taken another man’s cock inside?”
Twisting his neck, Tony looked Gibbs in the eyes. “Never.”
“So you share Tim’s lack of experience in this?”
“Teach me.”
Gibbs took his time, as he rubbed Tony’s skin with oiled hands. He made sure to
massage down each arm and took care to note each of Tony’s ticklish spots.
After several minutes, he relaxed and Gibbs pressed a finger into Tony’s hole.
When Tony pushed back against the finger, so Gibbs added another. “You are
ready,” he whispered.
Tony turned far enough that they could share another kiss.
Gibbs lined up his cock and pressed in. Pausing for a moment, he gauged Tony’s
reaction.
Tony reached back and placed his hand on Gibbs’ thigh. “It is good,” he said
softly.
Gibbs wrapped his arm around Tony, settling his hand on his stomach, holding
him in place. He kept his thrusts slow at first and noticed that Tony had begun
to stroke his own cock.
Keeping their bodies close to each other, Gibbs pressed his lips to the back of
Tony’s neck, alternating between kissing, licking and sucking. Moving slightly,
he nipped at Tony’s earlobe.
Tony shifted his position until he felt Gibbs rubbing against his prostate. He
twined his fingers with Gibbs’ hand that was pressed against his stomach.
Tugging the calloused hand slightly, he brought it to his mouth and kissed it.
When he felt his orgasm was close, Gibbs shook his hand loose from the Prince’s
and he reached for Tony’s cock. The Prince allowed Gibbs to pump his cock until
he came. Gibbs wrapped his arms around Tony’s body and held him close as he
climaxed.
Afterward, Gibbs released Tony and rolled onto his back.
“Was it worth it?” Tony asked.
“Definitely, yes,” said Gibbs as he breathed heavily.
Sidling over, Tony moved his head to Gibbs’ shoulder, laying his hand on Gibbs’
stomach. “If my father ever finds out what you have just done, he will have
your hide.”
“I hope you did not allow me to do this only to piss off your father.”
“No. I was curious what sort of a lover you would be.”
“Am I a lover worthy of a prince?”
“You have certainly proven yourself to this one.”
                       [Forest divider 1 by banbury.jpg]
***** The Road Less Traveled By *****
                        [NCIS Chapter background 7.jpg]
 
Tim awoke and looked over to see Tony cuddling against Gibbs, chatting softly.
His first instinct was to turn away, attempting to pretend he was still asleep.
Tony was not buying it.
Reaching over, Tony shook Tim’s arm. “Come with me.”
Gibbs watched as the pair got out of bed, dressed and left the cottage.
“Do you like Gibbs?” asked Tim.
Tony smiled.
“You do! I can see it in your eyes,” Tim observed.
“He is an amazing man.”
“He is holding us captive.”
“That he is.” Tony stopped walking and faced Tim. “You come from a family that
is not wealthy, correct?”
“We are not as poor as some. We have much good land and several animals.”
“Your family does not struggle to survive?”
Tim slowly shook his head. “We do not. There is much work to do, but there is
always plenty of food on our table. In bountiful years, we are able to give
some food to others who are less fortunate.”
“How do you find them?”
“Some we know or hear about from friends, the church or around the nearest
village. Sometimes we sell our surplus to the shops in the nearby towns. People
there have no land to farm. Those who often struggle the most are either too
old or too ill to work, or they are children whose parents have died, leaving
them homeless orphans,” explained Tim.
“Who cares for these people?”
“They may beg for help. Some farmers who are having a good year may help them.
Shopkeepers may give them old food that they can no longer sell. Some ask for
help at the church.”
“Do you approve of what Gibbs and his band of outlaws is doing?” Tony asked.
“I have not really thought it through. It is good that he helps the poor, but I
am not certain he is right to steal from the wealthy.”
Tony raised his eyebrows.
“He is right behind me, is he not?” Tim asked.
Gibbs spoke softly. “Is it right that the wealthy take everything from the
poor?”
“They are allowed to do so by law,” stammered Tim.
“The wealthy write the laws. It does not make them right. Consider this forest
as my domain and the money I take a toll to traverse the woods. Then I am the
same as them.”
Tim considered Gibbs’ words.
“Why are they allowed to make the laws and determine the tax?” asked Gibbs. “It
is only because their ancestors were strong and took more land than others.
They took all the land, but many were too lazy to work it so they forced the
poor to scratch out a meager living by doing all the work and paying the
wealthy for that privilege.”
Tony looked at Tim. “Is it right that I am born a prince and you were not? You
serve me only because of who my father is and who your father is. Gibbs’ words
make sense to me. I am probably only a prince because my ancestors were great
warriors and leaders. It is nothing that I have done. It is for no reason
beyond being born the son of a king. And what of you, Gibbs? Were you born
wealthy or poor?”
“My father is a shopkeeper. He made enough money to keep us fed.”
“And you left to become a soldier?” Tony asked.
“I did. I fought in many battles.”
“But you were not rewarded with land of your own?”
“No. Vance was rewarded with some land and also his job as sheriff. The rest of
us were given nothing more than our contracted pay. Some believe Vance was
intended to share what he was given.”
“It hardly seems worth it to risk your life as a soldier.”
“The worst thing about being a soldier was when we were ordered to kill women
and children, to wipe out complete families and sometimes complete towns,”
Gibbs divulged, his eyes staring into the distance as the painful memories
danced before him.
Tony shook his head. “I have been in war, but only saw the men who fought.”
“We were ordered to do many horrible things. And we did as we were ordered
without ever questioning it.”
“And that is why you do what you do?” Tony asked. “You mean to make amends for
your actions?”
“Perhaps,” said Gibbs.
Tim and Tony stood and watched as Gibbs quickly walked away from them.
“Let us begin our day,” said Tony.
Tim followed him toward the stables. The pair were greeted by Ducky and set
about pulling a bowl of water to share for their morning ablutions. Minutes
later, they stopped to get a plate of food, then returned to Gibbs’ cottage.
“This is not a bad life,” Tony commented. “Friar Duck brings water, wine and
ale. They have a whole forest of animals to kill for food. Everything else is
donated to them. It is peaceful out here.”
“Still, we are held here as captives,” Tim reminded him.
“It will only be for a short time. I envy the simplicity of their lives. You
said before that you knew how to make bread?”
“I have seen my mother and sister make bread,” replied Tim. “I have helped by
grinding the grain for them.”
“I would like you to teach this skill to me.”
“My Prince?”
“What would happen to me if my father’s kingdom was ever overrun? What if I
escaped, but had to survive on my own? I wish to learn to survive, like Gibbs
does. I want to know how to draw my own water, make my own bread and track
animals.”
“I would still stand beside you,” Tim assured him.
Tony patted Tim’s shoulder. “I know. You have a great sense of duty which may
be more than I deserve. If I am to be a king someday, I want the people I rule
to respect me, not fear me. Perhaps one day I will make bread with my own hands
and give it to people who need it.”
“That would be something.”
“First, I must learn to do for myself. Then I shall learn to do for others.”
After they finished their morning ablutions, and eating their meager rations of
cheese, bread and ale, they returned to the food preparation area. Tim ventured
forth to speak to one of the older women. She listened to his words, then
looked at Tony and chuckled as she wiped her hands on her apron.
Tim waved for Tony to follow as the woman led them to a wooden table where
other women were working. She pointed out the mortar and pestle sets to Tim,
then to the bags of grain.
Tim grabbed two mortar and pestle sets, handing one to Tony. They each found a
place at the table and were given some grain to work. Several of the ladies
giggled, watching as the Prince began grinding the grain.
An empty bowl was set in front of Tony.
“You will need to fill this to have enough flour for a loaf of bread,” he was
told.
They were still grinding grain into flour when Abby appeared. “You guys! I
could not believe it when I was told you two were grinding grain.”
Tim nodded to Tony. “He wishes to learn to be self-sufficient.”
“That is an odd goal for a prince.”
“I am no better than any other man,” Tony said. “Why should I not have the same
knowledge?”
Abby smiled. “Just to let you know, normally it is the women who grind the
flour and make the bread.”
Frowning, Tony stared into his bowl. “Surely there are men in the world who
make their own bread.”
“There are,” Abby assured him. “Town bakers, for instance, and monks. But in a
family setting, it would be women’s work.”
“I still wish to learn these things,” insisted Tony. “I should know how to
survive. Just in case something terrible ever happened.”
“That is a sound ambition,” said Abby. “I have brought some herbs. You can use
them in your bread. It will change the flavor in subtle ways you may enjoy.”
“I noticed the breads are a different color, texture and flavor than what is
served in the castle.”
“People make whatever sort of bread they can afford,” Tim explained. “This is
common bread of most people. Money is of no concern in the castle, so only the
best and rarest ingredients are used for the royal loaves.”
                      [Forest divider123 by Banbury.jpg]
Hours later, Tony grinned as his first loaf of bread had been formed, allowed
to rise, then baked in a stone and clay oven before being set out to cool. Abby
brought it to him with a mug of ale and watched as he tore off a chunk and took
his first bite.
“Is it amazing?” she asked.
“It is amazing that I took grain and made flour, then added a bit of ale,
spices and herbs, and now it has become something that I can eat. It is such a
fascinating process. I wonder who ever figured out how to make bread in the
first place.”
“I do not know.”
Tony tore off another chuck of his bread and handed it to Abby. “Please, taste
it and tell me what you think.”
She chewed slowly and nodded. “It is quite good.”
Tony then tore off another chunk and handed it to Tim. “Do you think they can
teach me to make cheese?”
“Perhaps, if you wish it. Making cheese is a long process. With aging, it can
take months,” Tim suggested.
“Months?”
“It must age. The flavor differs depending on how long it is aged.”
“How long are the royal cheeses aged?” Tony asked.
“I am not certain,” Tim replied. “Probably twelve to eighteen months.”
“Wow, that long?”
“I am only guessing. The cheeses we have eaten here are more likely aged only a
month or so.”
“What about ale making?”
“Ale also requires an aging process.”
“Perhaps I should wait to learn those things until we have returned to the
castle. I am certain the ransom payment will come through any day and we shall
be released.”
                      [Forest divider123 by Banbury.jpg]
After they finished eating, Tim followed Tony in search of Gibbs. They found
him on the archery range and joined him.
“Your shooting improves each day, Your Highness,” said Gibbs.
“Then you are a fine teacher and I am an excellent student,” Tony responded.
Gibbs stood close behind Tony, rubbing his cock against Tony’s ass as he
reached around, assisting Tony to aim. “I have many more things I can teach
you,” Gibbs whispered close to his ear.
Tim watched as Gibbs rubbed up against Tony from behind and nibbled at his ear.
Gibbs licked a trail up the rim of Tony’s ear. “You should take him. He has the
look of jealousy in his eyes.”
Tony giggled, then glanced at Tim. “It is as if there are arrows in his eyes,
pointed directly at you.”
“I believe he is just frustrated from his desire to be bedded by you. If he has
dedicated his life to you and you have not taken him, I must believe he is
still a virgin.”
Tim pulled back his arrow and released it, watching as it missed the target.
“At first I thought he lacked focus,” whispered Gibbs. “But now I think he is
completely focused on you.”
Tony giggled as Gibbs wrapped his arms around his waist and kissed him.
Tim missed another shot.
“Come on, McSquire,” said Tony. “You are to protect me. How can you protect me
if you continue to miss the target?”
“I do not believe the bales of straw are planning to attack you,” Tim responded
as he aimed again.
“Yes, but if they were, they would have had me by now.”
“Take a deep breath and focus,” Gibbs offered.
Tim took Gibbs’ suggestion and finally hit the target.
“You need to remember to focus on what you want, and go for it,” urged Gibbs.
A blush crept across Tim’s face as he took another shot.
While they were still on the field, Jimmy jogged over to Gibbs and handed him a
sealed letter. Tim and Tony watched his expression as he broke the seal and
read the note.
“Is it word from my father?” Tony asked.
“It is.”
“It is about time.”
“He says if we truly have you, we are to send the family signet ring to him as
proof.”
Tony was taken aback. “The family ring? He never gave it to me.”
“Are you certain it was not carried off by your packhorse?” Gibbs asked with a
raised eyebrow.
“He truly never gave it to me. The family tradition was to pass the ring from
father to son on the son’s twenty-first birthday. When the time came for me to
receive it, my father said he had lost the ring in battle.”
“Then why would he ask for it?”
“If you will allow me a bit of parchment, ink and a quill, I will write back.
That will prove to him that you have me and that I am alive and well.”
Gibbs nodded his approval. Tony followed Jimmy back to camp and was led before
Friar Duck to request supplies.
Tony quickly penned a message:
“His Royal Highness, King Anthony,
Father, you well know that I never received the family signet ring. You have
previously stated that it was lost to you in battle. I am being held and cared
for, along with my squire, Timothy. We are promised to be released once you
send the ransom. Please do so immediately.
Your son,
Prince Anthony”
 
Gibbs agreed to send the letter out by messenger.
                      [Forest divider123 by Banbury.jpg]
During the evening meal, Tony did not laugh and enjoy the evening entertainment
as he had on previous nights. As the moon rose in the sky, Gibbs stood and
offered his hand to Tony, then led him back to the cottage.
“You are troubled.”
Looking up, Tony stared into Gibbs’ eyes. “I do not understand my father’s
reply. I swear he never gave the ring to me. It is difficult to think he is not
trying harder to secure my release.”
“Perhaps he does not believe we hold you or he fears you are already dead.”
“I am his only son. He should at least try.”
“This is how negotiations go,” Gibbs assured him. “He was fishing for the
truth, whether we had you and if you were still alive. Your letter should
convince him. How many knew the tale of the ring?”
“Everyone. The ring had been passed on for generations when the son turns
twenty-one. At my twenty-first birthday, he told the tale at the celebration,
that he had lost the ring in battle.”
“He did not replace it with another?” asked Gibbs.
“That was the common thought, that if he had lost the original, he should
commission another ring to be made. It was suggested, he said he would, but he
never did.”
“I wonder why?”
“I have never told this to another. Not even Tim. I went to see him in his
quarters one day and I swear he had that very ring on. When he saw I was there,
he hid it from my eyes. I never understood why.”
“Perhaps he treasures the ring and did not want to give it up,” Gibbs
suggested.
“Then he treasures that ring more than he treasures his son,” replied Tony.
“He may believe it has special powers.”
“It is said that on his twenty-first birthday, when he received the ring, he
stated, ‘With this ring, I could rule the world’. Many swear they saw the ring
on his finger after the battle when he said he lost it.”
“And no one called him on it?”
“He never said it was lost until my twenty-first birthday. It was then he said
he had lost it months earlier in a battle. Any man who disagrees with my father
or calls him a liar may soon find his head separated from his shoulders. My
father can be a difficult man.”
“As can mine. We do not always agree,” said Gibbs.
“But if someone held you hostage, he would do everything he could to gain your
release. Would he not?”
Gibbs rubbed his chin. “I do not know. I never planned on being taken alive. By
anyone.”
“Nor did I.”
“You could have fought.”
“I was outnumbered,” Tony said. “The odds were not in my favor.”
“I would have fought until my dying breath.”
“Perhaps my father is disappointed that I was captured. Maybe he is ashamed
that I am his son.”
Reaching over, Gibbs rubbed Tony’s shoulder. “We shall not pass judgment until
we receive his next response.”
Gibbs spooned close behind Tony in bed. Tim returned to the cottage late and
saw the pair snuggled together. Pausing at the doorway, he looked back outside,
into the darkness.
“You will never get past Ziva,” Gibbs said. “Close the door and come to bed.”
Tim sighed deeply, wondering how Gibbs always seemed to know everything he was
thinking. After shedding his clothing, he used a towel and the water left out
on the table to clean himself before climbing into the far side of the bed.
“What will you do with us if the King refuses to pay the ransom?” he whispered.
“We will cross that bridge when it presents itself. Get some rest.”
                      [Forest divider123 by Banbury.jpg]
Two days went by and Gibbs decided it was time to move his team to another
outpost. Tony’s moping was obvious to everyone. Gibbs assigned him tasks to
help pack up items for the move. Tim stayed close at his side.
“Perhaps we can get away during the move?” Tim suggested at a whisper.
“What is the point?” questioned Tony.
“What do you mean? Do you desire to be their prisoner for the remainder of your
life?”
“My father is doing nothing to negotiate our return. If he does not care that I
am held captive, then why should I?”
“I am certain he and his advisors are discussing the best way to bargain our
safe return. They will need to come to terms on how to deliver the ransom and
guarantee our safe release.”
Tony was not convinced. Working steadily, he did everything he was asked,
packing some items and storing away others.
Once everything was ready, Gibbs rode up to him and offered his hand. “You may
ride with me, if you wish.”
Tony reached for his hand and settled behind Gibbs in the saddle. Another of
Gibbs’ men allowed Tim to ride with him.
As they began their journey, Tony saw that the women and children were on foot
and headed down a different trail.
“Where are they going?” he asked.
“There is a footpath that is shorter, but it is not meant for horses and
wagons. Those without horses will walk. They will hide their trail. We will
ride on the road for a while. It is more dangerous, but we have enough men to
fight if we must. When we turn off the main road, we will disguise the number
of horses that have made the journey.”
“You do this each time you move?”
“Yes, it is the only way to stay safe and unseen.”
“How do they not find your cooking fires?”
“We have sentries watching the trails. If anyone comes too close, we douse the
flames. We also camp near the edge of the forests. At a distance there would be
no way to distinguish smoke coming from a farmhouse or from the edge of the
forest.”
“Interesting.”
                      [Forest divider123 by Banbury.jpg]
They traveled for several hours before approaching a farmhouse. Gibbs stopped
at the house to speak with the farmer. The man was older than Gibbs. A younger,
dark-haired woman stepped out of the home and greeted Gibbs as a small girl ran
across the yard and into Gibbs’ arms. The others waited as Gibbs spoke to the
landowner for several minutes.
Tony had dismounted and was holding the reins of Gibbs’ horse. “Your next
encampment is near?”
“Just across a couple of fields,” Gibbs replied.
“You do not fear Tim and I will take off since we can find this road?”
“We were not far from the road before. How do you think Ducky gets a wagon to
us?”
Gibbs held his hand to help Tony remount, then started his horse off at a trot.
A couple minutes later, they rode into another encampment, which was
surprisingly similar to the one they had left.
“It is easier on everyone that each of the outposts is as identical as
possible,” explained Gibbs. “We all know where to find things. It should help
with Timothy’s need for routines.”
“I am certain McSquire will appreciate that.”
The men began stabling the animals and airing out the cottages. A couple hours
later, the women and children arrived and assisted with the chores.
“How do you decide when to move?”
“We do not stay in one place longer than a month. If the sheriff thinks he has
figured out the area we are in, we are gone before he rounds up his men to come
find us.”
“The messenger you sent to take word to my father, will he know to find you
here?”
“It is not that simple. We cannot send someone who could easily be followed.
The return message will be passed through several hands before it comes to us.
The messenger will not pick it up and bring it here until he is certain he is
not being followed. It is always a different messenger who drops off the
message than the one who brings the reply.”
Tony nodded his head. After the evening meal Tony and Tim made their way toward
the cottage that bore Gibbs’ mark. Inside they found another large hand-carved
bed frame.
“Feels like home,” Tony said with a smile.
“I am glad to see that something cheers you up,” said Tim.
While Gibbs was busy putting the encampment in order, Tim and Tony took the
empty bed coverings and filled them with hay and wild grasses. Once they felt
it was suitably filled, they carried it together back to Gibbs’ cottage,
settling it into the bed frame.
When they climbed into bed, Tony placed his hand at the back of Tim’s neck and
leaned over to kiss him. Pushing back after the kiss, he rested his forehead
against Tim’s. “I am glad you are with me. I am not glad you were captured, but
I am glad that I am not alone.”
“I knew what you meant,” Tim replied.
“If I ask you something, will you answer honestly?”
“Of course.”
“Gibbs said you look at me as if you want me to fornicate with you.”
“What?” Tim asked.
“You heard what I said. Do you want me? In that way? I would like an honest
answer as I will not ask you again. It is okay either way.”
Tim thought for a minute and pressed his hand flat against Tony’s bare chest,
rubbing in small circles. “Yes,” he whispered. “I have always wanted to be with
you. But I know you want to be with Gibbs.”
“One does not preclude the other,” Tony said as he left a trail of kisses down
Tim’s cheek.
“I have always loved you,” Tim whispered. “Since the day I first saw you, I
have willingly dedicated my life to serving you.”
Tony pulled Tim close, cupping the cheeks of his ass as they kissed.
Gibbs smiled when he returned to find the two younger men wrapped in each
other’s arms and kissing passionately. In the light of a single lamp, he
undressed as he watched the pair, and washed himself before climbing into bed
naked. Spooning up behind Tony, he licked the back of his neck, nuzzling
against his hair.
                      [Forest divider123 by Banbury.jpg]
Two days later, Friar Duck and Jimmy arrived in the encampment with another
load of wine, ale, water and grains. Gibbs and Ducky walked a short distance
and chatted as Jimmy began unloading the goods. Tony and Tim approached to
assist.
Jimmy smiled at the pair. “I appreciate the help. I did not think this was the
sort of thing a prince would do.”
Tony shrugged. “I am no better than the next man. Gibbs has made sure we have a
bed to sleep in and food to eat. It is only fair we do our share of the
communal work.”
Tim nodded toward Gibbs and Friar Duck. “What do you think they are discussing?
Their expressions are troubled.”
Jimmy lowered his voice. “The King has refused to pay any ransom to Gibbs.
Instead, he increased the price on Gibbs’ head.”
“He what?” Tony asked. Before Jimmy could stammer out any answer, Tony walked
over to join Gibbs and Ducky. “My father has refused to pay for my release?”
Friar Duck nodded slowly. “He said he will not deal with a criminal.”
“He would condemn me to death?”
“I have not threatened your life,” Gibbs said. “In fact, you are free to go.”
“What?”
“We sought to get a ransom, more funds for our cause. Since your father has
made it clear he will not pay anything, there is no reason to keep you here. We
gambled and lost.”
“I will not leave,” Tony informed him. “He has made it clear he does not value
the life of his only son. I will not return to him.”
Gibbs took a few steps away, threading his fingers through his hair. “It is
over. It is time you return to your castle.”
“Have you learned nothing about me, Gibbs? I do not need to live a life of
wealth. If my father does not want me back, then why should I return to him?”
“It is your place in this life. If you do not return, who will take over the
throne when King Anthony passes? If you are there, you can make changes. You
can make a difference.”
“I believe in your cause. I will stay and help as best I can,” Tony offered.
“If my father truly cares at all for his son, he will give orders not to kill
any of your followers, lest I am killed by accident or for revenge.”
“I cannot guarantee your safety,” warned Gibbs.
“I have not asked you to.”
“The King may put a price on your head as he has mine.”
“I wish to protect you,” Tony insisted. “I have become rather fond of your
head.”
“Do you not think you can do more good for the poor if you return to the
castle?”
“I cannot return knowing my father places such little value on his son’s life.
I cannot face his selfishness anymore. The only thing I would like from the
castle is my horse.”
“If you are determined to walk this path with me, you shall need a good horse,”
Gibbs agreed.
                        [Forest Tony 1 by banbury.jpg]
***** A Fork In The Road *****
                        [NCIS Chapter background 8.jpg]
Tony returned to Tim and waved for him to follow. “Jimmy, which path leads to
the archery range?”
Jimmy pointed to one of the trails.
Tim scrambled to catch up with Tony. “Are we escaping?” he asked.
As they reached the clearing, Tony turned around sharply. “No. In fact, Gibbs
has given us permission to leave.”
“He is letting us go? We are leaving now?”
Tony sighed deeply, choking back the tears that threatened to fall. “Tim, my
father has refused to pay any ransom for us. He does not value my life at all.”
Tim placed a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “You know that is not true.”
“It is true. If he cared for me, he would do everything he could to secure my
safe return. He has not. All he did was increase the price on Gibbs’ head.”
“Then if you care for Gibbs, you should leave,” Tim suggested.
“Why?”
“If he does not have you, he may be less of a target.”
“The wealthy complain constantly about being robbed by Gibbs. Neither my
father, nor Sheriff Vance, will stop hunting him until he is captured.”
“Then what is it you plan to do?” asked Tim.
“I believe in his cause.”
“As a prince, you can voice your opinions in your father’s court.”
“My father means to keep his wealth. He cares for nothing else.”
The pair paused their conversation as they saw Gibbs and Friar Duck approaching
from across the field.
“You should go back to the castle,” said Gibbs. “It will be safer for you
there. You are not meant for this life.”
Tony shook his head. “You cannot force me to return. If you will not allow me
to stay, then Tim and I will survive on our own.”
“In the forest?”
“Sure. We can hunt for food.”
“You do not have what it takes to survive, Prince.”
“You said yourself that I am a quick learner,” Tony said as he walked a few
paces, looking out over the field.
“You may stay, but I think you should consider returning to the castle.”
Turning, Tony faced Gibbs. “How can I?”
“Tell them you escaped when our sentries fell asleep.”
“I cannot live a lie. I cannot return to the castle knowing my father does not
find me worthy enough to save.”
Tim walked over to Tony and stood by his side. “If you wish to retrieve your
horse, it will require that we return to the castle.”
Friar Duck cleared his throat. “I can take you back in the wagon. I will tell
your father than I came upon you walking on the road and simply gave you a lift
back to the castle after you escaped.”
Tim nodded. “We can gather anything we wish to take with us, then saddle our
horses and leave.”
Tony looked back and forth between the men. “And you think he will allow me to
leave the castle ever again without a score of armed guards?”
“Could you ride away during a hunt?” questioned Gibbs.
“We would not be able to bring much clothing,” Tony replied.
“You could stash it near the kitchen in the castle,” suggested Ducky. “Abby can
bring it to me when I deliver the wine and I will bring it back here.”
“I know all the corridors that lead to the kitchen,” said Tim. “I can traverse
the passageways without being seen.”
Tony nodded. “No one would suspect Abby. She works in the kitchen and comes and
goes.”
“I talk to her on occasion,” Ducky said. “It would not raise suspicion. Perhaps
she can load your things into an empty wine barrel. I pick them up all the
time.”
“I do not wish for all my things to be soaked in wine,” Tony said doubtfully.
Friar Duck smiled. “I am trusted at the castle. We can take in a dry, empty
barrel, which Abby can pack with your things. Then we will return it to the
wagon along with the other empty barrels. They will only count the barrels I
leave behind.”
“Abby is liked and trusted by the chefs,” Tim said. “The kitchen is a busy
place. If she offered to count the wine barrels, they may allow it.”
Ducky and Gibbs smiled at each other.
“Go back,” said Gibbs. “It is likely they will arrange a celebratory banquet.
Surely it is known that you were captured. Your father could not deny you a
celebration upon your return. There will be many people coming and going.”
“I will be asked to deliver extra wine and ale,” said Ducky. “Abby will be
there. If the chefs are preparing a banquet, the kitchen will be busier than
normal. There will be much drinking and you should be able to slip out to the
stables and get your horses.”
“We can tell the guards you wish to go for a moonlight ride,” suggested Tim.
“Even if they insist on guards coming with us, we can go for a canter and lose
them in the darkness of the night.”
Friar Duck nodded at Gibbs. “I will show them the road to Mike’s farm. He can
show them the path from the field or point them to this one.”
“Are you certain you wish to do this?” Gibbs asked.
Tony nodded. “It is where my heart lies.”
The group worked on finalizing their plans over the next few days. At Gibbs’
suggestion, Tim and Tony stopped shaving and bathing. Gibbs wrapped ropes
around their wrists and ankles tightly enough to leave marks.
                      [Forest divider123 by Banbury.jpg]
Early one morning, Gibbs woke Tim and Tony, hugged them and escorted them
through the archery field to Mike’s farm. From there, they were pointed toward
the road and began walking back toward the castle.
They had only been gone for two hours when Tony sat down at the side of the
road.
“We should keep walking,” Tim urged.
“Why? Friar Duck will be by eventually to give us a ride.”
“Do you not wish to be convincing? We should continue walking so we have plenty
of dust on our clothing, and wear on our shoes.”
Reaching his hand down, Tim assisted Tony to his feet.
“My stomach grumbles,” said Tony.
“We should arrive hungry.”
“They could have given us a little bit of food for the journey.”
“We are supposed to have escaped.”
“We could have stolen food,” Tony argued.
“It is more believable if we arrive dirty and hungry.”
They continued down the road for another three hours before Friar Duck and
Jimmy came upon them.
“I was beginning to think we took a wrong turn,” Tony said as he gladly climbed
aboard the wagon.
“We thought it best to give you time to look the part,” the Friar explained.
The small group pulled over to the side of the road before it was dark. Jimmy
built a small fire to keep them warm as Friar Duck divided a meager ration of
cheese and bread, passing a portion to each of the men.
Tony chewed the bread slowly. “I must admit, I am looking forward to a banquet
in the castle.”
“No one will think less of you if you decide to remain at the castle,” said
Tim.
Shaking his head slowly, Tony responded, “I cannot stay, knowing how little my
father thinks of me. It is obvious that I am not the son he desires to have.”
“Your father can be a difficult man,” said Friar Duck. “He is the King. It is
his prerogative to be a difficult man.”
“And he is not known to change his mind,” Tony added.
“Not likely,” Ducky agreed.
“That is why I cannot stay. He will welcome me back and throw the expected
banquet. But my feelings have changed for him. He will see my thoughts in my
eyes. He desires to hold onto his power even if he has to have me killed. I
would not feel safe.”
The group finished their meal in silence and settled into a restless sleep.
                      [Forest divider123 by Banbury.jpg]
The next morning, Jimmy harnessed the horses and the group set out at a steady
trot. Tony did his best to try to nap as he leaned against an empty wine
barrel. Tim watched the road from the back of the wagon. As they continued
their journey, he made mental notes of the landmarks they passed.
Later in the afternoon, as they pulled up to the castle gate, Friar Duck
excitedly told the guards he had found Prince Anthony and his squire trudging
along at the side of the road.
“It is truly them,” he insisted.
The guards approached the wagon and looked in at Tony, sound asleep in the
back. The first guard looked at the second. “Go and tell them inside the
castle!”
As the second guard ran off to deliver his message, the first guard directed
them to drive the wagon into the courtyard. He then reached into the wagon and
shook the Prince.
“It is good to see you home, Your Highness,” he said. “Can you walk on your
own?”
“I am not certain,” Tony replied groggily. “Where am I?”
“You are back within the castle walls where you belong,” the guard informed
him.
Within minutes, several other guards and knights from the castle had arrived in
the courtyard. A litter was summoned to carry Tony to his suite. The castle was
soon bustling with news of his return. Tim had to follow the procession on
foot, watching as they carefully put Tony down and discussed what to do next.
Sir Tobias arrived and quickly sent several of the men to retrieve buckets of
water to be warmed over the fire before being dumped into the tub.
“Are you well, Prince? Did they harm you at all?” Fornell questioned.
Tony held out his wrists that still showed red marks.
“We will get you cleaned up in no time,” he promised.
Tim sat in a chair as Fornell sent guards to the kitchen to retrieve food and
sent another to fetch the royal physician.
As the first few gallons of water were warmed, Sir Tobias assisted Tony in
undressing and getting into the tub.
“We shall get you cleaned up before your father sees you,” he said. Another
guard handed Fornell some soap and a shaving blade.
After a long soak in the tub, Tony was assisted into a dressing gown and over
to his bed to be checked out by the physician, who suggested a good, long rest.
Tim watched as Tony was fussed over, but allowed himself to reach for the food.
“I missed this,” he said as he ate.
After another hour, King Anthony himself made a visit to the suite. He had Tim
wake Tony, then frowned when he saw how dirty Tim was.
“Squire, perhaps you should tend to yourself while I speak to my son.”
Tim eyed the tub Tony had used. “I thought it best I wait until there were
fewer people around.”
“I believe everyone in this room would be happier if you bathed.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
As all attention was focused on Tony, Tim quietly undressed and slipped into
the tub.
King Anthony sent everyone away, other than Tim and Sir Tobias.
“I am please you have returned,” he said.
Tony blinked his eyes. “It is good to be home.”
“Did Gibbs release you?”
“Squire Timothy was able to work his hands out of his bindings and then
assisted in releasing me. We escaped under the darkness of night.”
“That Gibbs is a scoundrel! I paid the ransom and he refused to release you. I
was certain he had killed you.”
“They said you never paid the ransom.”
“Who will you choose to believe? Those criminals in the forest or your father,
the King?”
Tony reached out, grabbing his father’s hand and bringing it to his lips to
kiss it. “I was sure you would not leave me in their wretched hands.”
“I would not. I have sent scores of soldiers searching for you. I gave those
thieves everything they asked for in hopes they would return you to me in good
health. I could not face losing my only son.”
“I am pleased Timothy was able to guide me back to the castle.”
“Is it not his fault that you were captured? It is his duty to lay down his
life to protect you,” the King growled angrily.
Tony raised his hand and shook his head. “They cast a net and captured me and
Victory. They had grabbed hold of Weatherby’s reins and Tim still jumped down
and positioned himself between me and the thieves. I saw him fight many of them
off with his sword until one threw a rock to his head and knocked him out. I
feared he had died trying to protect me. After he fell, I begged for them not
to hurt him.”
“And they captured you and set your horses free?”
“Yes. They said when the horses reached the castle, you would know I was being
held hostage.”
“He is a devious man, this Gibbs. We shall hunt him down and have him hanged.”
“I suppose Sheriff Vance already has his men out looking for him.”
“Absolutely!”
Once they were left alone, Tim joined Tony in the bed.
“Do you think Gibbs took the ransom money that your father says he sent?” Tim
asked at a whisper.
Blinking his eyes open, Tony rolled over to face Tim. “No. He paid no ransom.”
“How can you be so certain?”
“My father is the devious man. Friar Duck believes in Gibbs. The whole letter
about the signet ring, which my father knows he never gave to me. And the fact
that Gibbs released us anyway.”
“If your father had paid the ransom, Gibbs would have released you. Is it
possible that is what happened, but he said your father refused to pay to gain
your allegiance?”
“I saw only truth in Gibbs’ eyes. What does he gain by lying to me?” asked
Tony.
“He turns you against your father. That puts a wedge between the King and the
Prince.”
“Next time father is in court, I intend to go to his suite and locate the ring.
That is all the truth I need.”
“You would believe a thief’s word over your father’s?” Tim questioned.
“I have heard my father lie quite convincingly. I have no proof that Gibbs has
ever lied to me, or in my presence.”
“You truly mean to give this all up? For him?”
“For him and for his cause. What he says and does makes sense to me. More than
what my father says.”
“Could you not serve him as well from within the castle walls?”
Tony smiled. “You have missed the fine food and soft bed?”
“I am only thinking of you, my Prince. If you leave the protection of the
castle and throw your lot in with Gibbs, you would suffer the worst torture and
death as a traitor to your father and to the kingdom, if you were ever caught.”
“Then I suppose we must do all we can to not get caught,” replied Tony.
                   [Forest Gibbs with horse by banbury.jpg]
***** Beyond The Castle Walls *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
                        [NCIS Chapter background 9.jpg]
Several days later, the court had convinced King Anthony to hold a grand ball
to honor of the Prince’s return. Many guests were invited and much food was
prepared. A continuous stream of maidens carried platter after platter into the
banquet room, along with pitchers of wine and ale.
Musicians played as the guests ate, and some stepped forward to dance. Finally
the King rose to his feet, toasting the return of his son. Prince Anthony
smiled throughout the festivities, although he was fuming inside.
Several days earlier, he had located the signet ring in his father’s chambers.
He had not taken it in case it was missed. He had sent Tim to review the books
kept by the royal accountant under the guise that Tim should learn such things
if he was to one day be the Prince’s chief advisor. There was no entry
disclosing any amount of ransom to be paid to anyone.
“Are you convinced of my father’s dishonesty now?” Tony had asked softly.
Tim only nodded in response.
The pair had spent many nights perfecting their plans. Tim and Abby met in a
rarely used passageway near the kitchen. A week before the banquet, Jimmy and
Friar Duck had hidden a couple clean barrels outside the kitchen. Tim began
bringing armfuls of clothing and personal items for Abby to hide inside the
barrels.
The night of the banquet, Jimmy and Friar Duck brought the wagon around to drop
off more wine and ale.
“This is not a night to run dry,” the Friar stated.
With everyone in the castle focused on the banquet, Jimmy retrieved the barrels
filled with Tony and Tim’s belongings and loaded them onto the wagon. He then
stuck to the shadows and made his way to the stables where he saddled Victory
and Chester, then covered the saddles with blankets. Afterward, he returned to
the wagon and waited. He stood watch while Ducky napped.
Well into the night, Prince Anthony joined the dancers on the floor and nodded
for Tim to join him. As there was normally no shortage of women wanting to
dance with the Prince, they had no issue finding partners.
As each dance ended, everyone paused to applaud the musicians and most changed
partners. After five dances, Tony nodded to Tim and they skirted the edge of
the banquet hall, chatting with the attendees. Once they reached the far end,
they ducked behind a large tapestry hiding a door.
The pair moved quickly. Tony’s first stop was his father’s chambers where he
took the signet ring from its hiding spot.
“It was mine all these years, whether he gave it to me or not,” he said.
“It will only prove to your father that you left of your own free will. Who
else would have known to look for that ring?” warned Tim.
“It does not matter. It is rightfully mine and I should have it.”
Tim led the way through several dark passageways. Abby met them near the
kitchen, giving them each a hug and a dark cloak. The pair continued into the
courtyard between the kitchen and the stables. When Jimmy saw them, he nodded
and awoke Friar Duck. A few minutes later, Tim and Tony led their horses from
the stables. Once mounted, they held their horses in the shadows until a few
guests were leaving. They worked themselves into the crowd as they departed
through the main gate.
Ducky and Jimmy soon followed with the wagon. Their intent was to slow down any
of the guards that might follow Tony away from the castle, but none did.
“I do believe someone has made sure to bring the sentries plenty of ale so they
are not missing out on the festivities,” Jimmy noted.
“And there is no doubt they are paying more attention to anyone coming into the
castle grounds than those leaving,” added Ducky.
Tim and Tony rode swiftly into the night. When they were well away from the
castle, Tony pulled Victory to a stop.
“It is good to be reunited, my friend,” Tony said as he patted the white horse.
Looking at Tim, he spoke softly, “I cannot ask you to join me in a life of
crime. You said yourself that I am now a traitor to my father, and I will face
the most devastating torture and death if I am ever caught.”
“I follow you willingly, my Prince.”
“There is no need. I release you from your duty. You should go back to your
family.”
“My place is here, at your side.”
Tony looked deeply into Tim’s eyes. “Your family may not be safe if you are
labeled an outlaw.”
“Tony, I had Abby send them word. They know they may never see me again. They
understand.”
“Get off of your horse,” said Tony.
“Certainly you do not mean to leave me without a horse or supplies?”
“Do you not follow my orders willingly?”
“Of course, my Prince.”
Tony dismounted and stood before Tim. “Kneel.”
Tim took a deep breath and knelt before the Prince.
Tony drew his sword and lightly touched the blade to each of Tim’s shoulders.
“I should have done this at the banquet to make it official in front of
witnesses. I dub thee Sir Timothy McGee, Knight of my court.”
Tim smiled, rose to his feet and hugged Tony.
“If I can stay alive long enough, I can still succeed to the throne when my
father dies.”
“You truly think so?” Tim asked.
“I have the signet ring, our family heirloom denoting the right to rule. It
should be enough for most. The people are tired of being taxed and treated
poorly. I want to make a change. The common people outnumber the wealthy and
they support Gibbs. With Gibbs at my side, the people will support me.”
“I hope you are correct.”
“Every time he succeeds in redistributing wealth to those in need, his legend
and popularity grows. It is already said that the people do what they can to
hide him and his followers from Sheriff Vance. With their aid, Gibbs has evaded
capture for years.”
“We will be labeled criminals and must hide ourselves from the sheriff.”
“I am already more popular than my father. It must be difficult to find anyone
who is not related to someone that my father has ordered killed.”
Tim nodded as he remounted his horse. “This is true. He does seem to have a
quick temper.”
“And he is not one to worry about anyone’s guilt or innocence.”
Once Tony remounted his horse, the pair rode throughout the night. The next
morning, they found themselves on the road leading to Mike’s farm. A light rain
began to fall when they were still a couple miles from the farmhouse.
“We are getting drenched,” Tim observed. “Why are you smiling?”
“It will hide our horses’ hoof prints. No one will be able to track our path.”
“Do you really think they need to? Where else would you have gone?”
Tony shrugged. “To sow my royal oats?”
“Once your father finds the ring is gone, he will know that you left of your
own free will. Where else would he think you headed, if not back to Gibbs?”
“There are a thousand destinies I could have followed.”
“But the obvious path leads back to Gibbs.”
They were soaked through by the time they rode up to the house. Mike called to
them from the porch. “Come in and get warm,” he said invitingly.
“I am certain we have a warm fire waiting for us nearby,” Tony replied.
“Do not be so sure,” said Mike.
Tony pulled Victory to a stop. “Have they moved on?”
“No, but they have no fires in the rain.”
“They will at least have warm blankets for us.”
“Give your horses a rest. It is obvious you have pushed them hard all night.
Leyla has a nice mutton stew ready. Please, put your horses in the barn and
come join us.”
Tony nodded and rode toward the barn. Minutes later, he and Tim were wrapped in
blankets and eating warm food inside Mike’s house.
“How is it that you help Gibbs, and yet, you are not in Sheriff Vance’s
crosshairs?” asked Tony.
“Me? I am a simple farmer now.”
“Gibbs told me you were his first captain. You must have known Vance.”
Mike lifted Amira onto his lap. “I was once a soldier. Now I am a farmer caring
for my daughter-in-law and my granddaughter. I am all they have left. Vance has
stopped by to chat a few times. He does not have enough men to watch every
farm.”
“He is given false leads?”
“There are many who are willing to help Gibbs. Vance is indeed given false
leads to follow. Some people call Gibbs a ghost because he cannot be found.”
“He is no ghost,” said Tony. “I have felt his strong hands and warm breath.”
“He is smart. Vance cannot keep up with each move Gibbs makes. He is often
months behind Gibbs and still fails to find him.”
“How long can it last?”
“Knowing Gibbs? As long as the people are willing to protect him, he will be
safe.”
“Does he ever leave the kingdom?”
“If he feels he must. Although he will only take money from those he feels have
taken advantage of the poor. He does not steal merely to steal.”
“A robber with a conscience?”
“A redistributor of wealth who keeps careful tabs on who is taking advantage of
the poor.”
When the rain let up, Tony and Tim thanked Mike and Leyla for their
hospitality, then led their horses from the barn, through a couple of fields to
the archery range and finally on the path to the encampment.
They were greeted warmly as they led their horses to the stables and put them
away. Gibbs met them as they were unsaddling their mounts, and gave them each a
warm hug and kiss.
“I am pleased you have decided to return,” he said.
“King Anthony said he paid the ransom,” Tim blurted out.
Gibbs smiled. “Do you believe that?”
“No,” replied Tony, stepping forward to embrace Gibbs again. “I missed being
with you.”
“I see you found your ring,” observed Gibbs.
“When my father dies, this will still show that I am of royal blood and have a
right to sit on the throne.”
“Even after you left to throw your lot in with common criminals?” questioned
Gibbs.
“I think of you neither as common nor as a criminal.”
“No? Then how do you see me?”
“You are a leader of men, Gibbs. The kingdom cannot go on as it is. It is only
a matter of time until the poor realize they outnumber the wealthy and organize
to change things.”
Gibbs leaned close, whispering in Tony’s ear. “That time is already here. The
poor are already organizing. How do you think it is that I am protected no
matter where I go?”
“So you knew it was only a matter of time before things fell apart?”
“I knew you had to make this choice on your own. If you stand with me and prove
yourself, perhaps you will one day sit on a throne and rule. But is that where
your heart truly lies?”
“I believe I could be a good ruler.”
“As do I. But I do not see you happy sitting in a castle day after day.”
Tony looked at the ring on his finger. “You think I should give it all up?”
“Do you not believe you already have?”
“I can win the peoples’ hearts, like you have.”
“Of this, I have no doubt,” Gibbs agreed.
“Then if I ever am entrusted by the people to be their king, I shall be a new
sort of king. One who will not hide within the castle walls.”
“Then you will ride with a score of men to protect you.”
“Do you?” Tony asked.
“Absolutely. For every man you see here in the encampment, there are two or
three more acting as sentries, ready to protect everyone in this camp. When I
move, they move with me.”
“Then I, too, shall ride with you and offer my protection.”
“You are ready to become a robber?”
Tony smiled. “I am ready to become a redistributor of wealth. I am ready to
stand by you and change the world. I have no choice, really.”
“And why is that?”
Tony wrapped his arms around Gibbs’ waist. “I have become rather fond of you.
You deserve my loyalty more than my father.”
“Then perhaps we can change the world together,” said Gibbs.
“Perhaps,” Tony agreed.
 
~END~
24 AUG 2015
                      [Forest header new by banbury.jpg]
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