Caught In The Lands of Time by Jae B Wells under her SCA pseudonym was originally published in a SCA newsletter during her son's chemo and 4 kids under 5 around 2006-2007. I used it as an escape from the real world. By re-posting it for you as a blog entry shows the growth of writing overtime. Don't worry. I cringe too when I read it. A woman who hated me petitioned to remove all fiction from the newsletter. Instead of guiding me from her standpoint as a writer, she took up arms to get rid of me.
“Caught In The Lands of Time” is a fictional continuous story that uses some truth, but does not use real people in real situations. Tune in every Dragonflyre for a taste of the traits of knighthood, but beware of the people who make the good look good, and the bad look forever evil.
Part 5
Dust floated up and spewed in the faces of the populace present. The roped off areas established borders for safety. Yet, most spectators kept close to the tents for cover from the harsh heat. The only inhabitants close to the ropes were near the entrance and exit. The moister from the night before did not seem to affect the air much. The sun enjoyed the game of scorching anyone who showed skin. This tournament was well played. Fight after fight pointed victors high above those that marched through the gate with a death march of deep thought. “What did I do wrong, how can I improve my thrust?” Although intentions of the contestants were primarily to have fun winning the title, the killing blows were sometimes taken with a grave face.
Victors kept their Armour on, but one man sat quietly after he had lost his last battle. He sat by some of the other fighters with his mind still in the game. His breastplate was at the side of his left leg while his chin rested in his right hand. His right elbow and elbow cop burdened his right leg above his right knee cop. Slightly bent over, he looked so much like a statue, that when the local baron passed by, a second glance had to0 be taken. Henry only blinked at the interrupted scene and kept watching the two fighting on the list field. Only two more fights after this one and the winner of the Tournament of HaShaddai would be announced. Henry was looking forward to Feast that night. It had been a long weekend.
Frank and Daniel were quiet as field mice as they crouched down next to their father. They settled with their legs crossed and put their hands in their laps. Thomas stood behind the brown trunk that held up his brother.
A delicious young lady approached Thomas from behind. She enjoyed checking him out from that vantage point. The tan leather vest covered just so much of that sweaty naked skin. He might be a man, but he was lacking proper manly hair. Any onlooker could tell that the lady didn’t mind. Thomas dressed often like a pirate. The gold chain on his neck matched his lonely right earring. She looked at the slightly baggy shin-showing pants for only a second before she drew her feminine hand to his right bicep.
“Oh, hi, Lucy!” Thomas carefully turned. If it were a man’s hand on his arm, it would have dung deeper into his skin.
Henry startled at his younger brother’s voice. After he turned back towards his previous attention, he stopped at the sight of his boys. “Well, good afternoon, my fine young men. Trying to sneak me a heart attack?” He ended with a happy chuckle.
“Sorry, Father.” Daniel grinned.
“Hey, pop, I thought you taught us to sneak up on our prey?” Frank said with an evil grin. His father only replied by giving the son seated closest to him a rough knuckle rub.
Thomas saw that the boys were in their father’s care after Henry winked at him over his shoulder. Following Lucy like a puppy, Thomas headed to the back of the huge white tent to converse quietly with the Lady clothed in a some-what suggestive manner. The sun fought with the shade of the tent to dance on her just right as Thomas stayed in the protective shadow of the tent. “Ever since she started showing interest in me, she has been dressing a little differently,” Thomas thought to himself.
The possum eating poop grin was in deed hidden from the disappearing view of the boys’ backs. As he watched them disappear, he knew that they were only two of the hundreds of boys who lovingly called him “Sir Suck”. Memories floated back to the first time his persona name was introduced. The three-year-old twin boys could not properly pronounce the long drawn out name. Soon every young boy out there started calling him that. Some parents minded and some didn’t. However, Sir Saucklemaierre knew full well that mothers were trying to teach the young boys to become men. Virginia was one of them. She was annoyed at the boys because they had started it. She didn’t have a fit using the word ‘suck’, it was just that the boys were much older now and it was time to start teaching them to talk with a respectful attitude. Sir Saucklemaierre honored every discipline action and upheld the words spoken by the parents. He liked being the ‘extra uncle’ at events. To not uphold the ruling of the judges (parents) would jeopardize that friendship he held with both. The children knew that he upheld their parents and respected him for it.
The fresh air that was deeply inhaled allowed Virginia to focus all her energy on a peaceful surrounding. Still breathing in and out, she allowed her tired feet to be escorted on the left arm of Sir Saucklemaierre. When she tripped, her ankle hurt like a pinch. It was there. It did hurt, but there was no need to limp. Her quick-legged hero led her up to three young men. Sir Saucklemaierre cleared his voice softly before he lifted his voice up to one man. “Young man, were you hurt when I bumped into you? I must have bumped into you. Although the cause was noble, it did not make it fair for you to be pushed aside.”
Never taking his eyes off the newcomers, Michael bowed gently. “That’s alright, Sir Saucklemaierre. Since I overheard your name, perhaps I should tell you my name is Michael. Next to me is an old classmate, Richard.”
As he was introduced, Richard bowed ever so slightly, but showed his honor to the beautiful mother. His voice was heard just above a whisper. “Milady. Milord.” He had said it between introductions, but did not say it loudly enough to interrupt.
“This is Richard’s friend, Fredrick.” Michael finished the introductions. Fredrick bowed completely low enough where there was little effort to gently plant a kiss on the strange woman’s hand he held in his own.
Slightly blushing, Virginia looked over to her escort as he introduced her to Fredrick, Richard, and Michael. “A woman of Valor stands before you. Her price is above pearls. Her husband relies on her and he will never lack. She brings him honor all the days that I have known her. She seeks wool and joyously works it into majestic fashion. She is like the Merchant ships for she brings her food from afar…”
Fredrick looked at Richard and then he glanced at Michael. They were both taking it all in like hungry children at a delicious feast. Sir Saucklemaierre could be an excellent Feastocrat for the hungry listener, but Fredrick was becoming quite full. Boredom was coming with speed lighting its tail. He could care less about whether or not Sir Saucklemaierre was quoting correctly Proverbs 31:10-31. Sir Saucklemaierre was adding and subtracting text to make it fit the woman he openly worshipped. His admiration was hidden in no way shape or form.
Growing impatient, Fredrick did not know that his feet moved from side to side. Unaware of the consequences of his feet dancing, his body language shuffled all over. Both eyes became glassy as he picked up words and sentences here and there. His thoughts were softly floating in his mind, “Geez, you would think I’m standing in front of an angel.” Fredrick paid closer attention as the speech was coming to a conclusion.
“…She helped me when I was down. My nature became well balanced because of her wisdom. She showed me that a drink every once in a while does not mean I have to be a gluttonous drunk. Mundane and persona clothes did she shower upon me. May I introduce the lady who rescued me from death’s tight bondage? This here on my arm is Lady, my lady, Virrrschiniyah.” Sir Saucklemaierre pronounced her name with grace and yet a heavy accent.
Virginia politely curtsied as the young men bowed and spoke in unison, “Milady, Virginia.” Sir Saucklemaierre might have pronounced her name with fashion, but it did not take away the correct sound of her name.
The handsome grayish black haired man turned his attention toward the woman next to him. The three young men could only watch quietly. Sir Saucklemaierre was very honest and sincere as he broached the next topic. “You know, Milady, I promised I would serve you until the end of my days. I have already found several more Gentles and Ladies to serve you in your castle. Your humble servant trained men to guard your lonely gates. Their maidens have pledged their loyalty to you.”
Virginia smiled and answered kindly. “As you know, several tents and a traveling fifth-wheel are my home right now. Milord, I swore to you when I knighted you my head captain, when you build me a Castle, I will rule just and kind as you wish. Indeed, I need a few more right hand men to find a way. Maybe you should continue your search for my handmaidens and wealth in other kingdoms. For it will take me faithful honest hard working followers to set me up a kingdom of my own.”
With a bow, Sir Saucklemaierre excused himself. “My lady, your wish shall be granted.”
Fredrick, Richard, and Michael bowed a soft leave before Virginia curtsied her leave. “Milord’s”, and “Milady” were exchanged before the group trickled away.
To Be Continued…
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