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phantismaFandom: Supernatural RPS
Title: The House of Morgan 3 ( all of Courtesan can be found here)
Pairing/Characters: JDM/Jensen, Jared, OMC
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3280
Summary: Total AU. Jeffrey works them a little closer to what they want and visits Jensen one more time before Jared takes on Malicus.
A/Ns & Warnings: Violence. Also, I thought this was the second to last chapter. Turns out that it isn't. There will be two more chapters to follow this one.
Art, from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
apieceofcake...
Lord Jeffrey watched the Princess and her courtesan leave Jared's cell. The day had gone exactly as planned, aside from the wound. He stepped out of the shadows and Lucia stopped, gesturing for the courtesan to wait.
"My Lord."
"Your Highness." Jeffrey's eyes flicked to Jared's door and back again.
"He sleeps."
Jeffrey nodded. "That is good. He needs to win tomorrow."
Lucia smiled softly and they started walking again, slipping through shadows toward the palace. "You are such a romantic, my Lord. I would never have guessed."
"It has nothing to do with romance, Highness." He held the door open for her and followed her out into the walkway that would lead them back into a private hallway and up to the royal wing. "It is only a means to an end."
"This ridiculous rivalry between you and my brother?" Lucia shook her head lightly. "You have gone to great lengths to bring him here, Jeffrey. This is more." She stopped them as they reached her door. Her eyes sparkled up at him as she touched his hand lightly. "You love the courtesan just as the gladiator does. I see it on you. You can not stand that my brother took him from you…that Fallon cares nothing for him at all, but that he could take him from you."
Jeffrey crossed his arms and looked down at her. "If that were the case, Highness, why would I fight, not to get Jensen back, but to free him and see him off with the boy?"
She smiled and dropped her gaze. "As I said, you're a romantic, my Lord. Now, I should be getting myself to bed. Come, Merrin." The courtesan dipped in curtsey and opened the door. "Until the morrow, my Lord."
Jeffrey stalked away, through the halls and down to the Master of Courtesans' office. "I was beginning to think you weren't coming after all, my lord."
"I was detained." Jeffrey held out his hand for the key. He had convinced the king to give him one more night with Jensen, and if things went well, this would be his last opportunity. The man set the key into his hand. "Is he prepared?"
The master smiled. "That one is always prepared."
Jeffrey nodded and walked away. Jensen always was. He paused at the door, gathering himself. He needed to be calm, collected. He fit the key in the door and turned the lock.
Jensen stood in the center of the sitting room, resplendent in a robe of gold cloth and scarlet. Jeffrey's ruby sparkled against his chest and at his cock. He smiled slow and hesitant, but Jeffrey's grin was quick and heated.
Jensen curtseyed deeply as Jeffrey closed the door, pocketing the key. "My Lord, I was hoping you would come to me again."
Jeffrey put a hand under his chin, lifting him out of the curtsey. "I have waited for this." He kissed Jensen then, lightly. No rush, they had all night.
"I have prepared a light meal, my lord." Jensen said softly. "May I serve?"
Jeffrey nodded and cleared his throat. "Yes, please." He loosened his robe and sat on the couch. Jensen disappeared into the kitchen and when he came back he had a tray of cheeses and bread and a goblet of wine. He knelt beside Jeffrey and offered up the wine first.
It was a dark red, deep and spicy, just as Jeffrey preferred. "You must have known I was coming." Jeffrey said with a soft chuckle.
Jensen didn't respond, only reached for the tray, holding up a piece of cheese for Jeffrey's mouth. It was smoky and soft. Jeffrey chewed and swallowed, one hand stroking through Jensen's hair. "I have missed you, Jensen."
"And I, you, my lord." Jensen seemed to relax as Jeffrey fingered his hair and let Jensen feed him. "You allow me to use my skills to please you. I fear I might forget how some days."
"Prince Fallon has no appreciation of the gifts a truly gifted courtesan can offer. Pay him no mind, Jensen. You will be free of him soon enough."
Jensen froze, his hand half way to Jeffrey's mouth. "Is it true?" he breathed softly, not looking up.
"Is what true?" Jeffrey asked.
"Jared…he stands before the king?"
Jeffrey smiled. He wasn't sure where Jensen got his information, but he didn't put it past Lucia to keep him informed. "Indeed. Tomorrow, Jared stands with the remaining gladiators in a final battle. He has already been promised his freedom if he beats Malicus, Prince Fallon's champion."
Jensen's eyes were wide and more than a little frightened as they turned to him. "And what then, my Lord?"
Jeffrey leaned down to kiss him, his mouth soft and pliant. "If all goes well, his victory will enrage Prince Fallon enough to accept Jared's challenge."
Jensen pressed his lips together, shifting a little on his knees. "It is whispered that he is wounded already."
"Whispered?" Jeffrey sighed and nodded. "He took a blow today that cut his side. But both a surgeon and a courtesan with healing talents have seen to him. He sleeps even now and by morning will be ready."
He thought he saw a hint of jealousy flit across Jensen's face, but he pulled it back quickly. "He fights well, Jensen. You should be proud."
"I can not afford to feel pride, my Lord." Jensen set the tray on the low table and stood slowly. "It will show, and Prince Fallon…" He sighed and stepped away. "I fear for him, and what the prince will do to him before this is over."
Jeffrey stood, crossing to where Jensen stood near the bedroom door. He raised a hand to Jensen's cheek and Jensen turned into it, his lips brushing over Jeffrey's palm. "What do you fear?"
Jensen swallowed, his eyes closed. "If Jared does not win tomorrow, he will belong to Prince Fallon, just as I do. The prince despises him, he will cause Jared pain for no reason but the pleasure it brings him."
"Your whispers are well informed." Jeffrey kissed Jensen's forehead, drawing him close. "Jared will win tomorrow, he has sworn to, and he has never yet broken his word."
For a long moment Jensen said nothing, only leaned into Jeffrey. When he spoke it was without moving, his words slightly muffled against Jeffrey's chest. "It feels hopeless my Lord, to be here, trapped in this prison awaiting word…to know that he is out there…" Jensen swallowed and looked up. "And…if the prince rises to the challenge? If Jared wins tomorrow, if Prince Fallon agrees to fight him…what then?"
Jeffrey tried to follow his worrying, but Jensen pulled away, heading into the bedroom to smooth back the comforter on the bed. "Should the prince defeat him, Jared will surely die for the daring to challenge a prince of royal blood. And I will remain here, in these rooms, until he finally sickens of me and throws me out to the House." Jensen turned his back, obviously fighting back emotions he knew better than to show. "And should Jared win, and ask for me? Will the king oblige?"
Jeffrey reached out to touch Jensen's back and Jensen shuddered against him. "I believe he will."
"And if Jared dies?"
Jeffrey pulled Jensen to him, wrapping his arms around him. "You mustn't think of this, Jensen. Jared needs us to support him, to pray to the gods to keep him in their favor, not to question and doubt." Jensen nodded, turning in Jeffrey's arms. "Enough of this talk. Let us spend our few hours together thinking of more pleasant things."
Jensen drew in a deep breath and Jeffrey could see the professional demeanor slip over him. "As you wish, my Lord. Shall I help you out of this?" His hand slipped to the collar of Jeffrey's robe and Jeffrey nodded.
Jensen's hands were gentle as they stripped him, folding his robe and setting it aside before removing his own. "What is my Lord's pleasure tonight?"
Jeffrey slid a thumb over Jensen's red, red lips. "Your mouth. I wish to feel your tongue on my skin and your lips wrapped warm around me."
Jensen smiled softly and took his hand, guiding him to the bed. "Then come, my Lord. Lie back and let me please you."
The day dawned warm and the skies clear, a perfect day for the battle that would see one gladiator crowned as the greatest in the land. Jeffrey left Jensen fairly early, with the promise that he would send word as soon as the battle was decided.
He made his way to the stadium, and down to the row of cells where Jared slept. Jared was not asleep, however.
"Hold still." Astin's voice carried even into the hall.
"Leave it be." Jared's was brusque, almost irritated.
"The surgeon said to pad it well, protect it."
"I know what the surgeon said. I say leave it."
Jeffrey pushed the door open. "You should do as the surgeon says, it may see you through the day."
"I can not fight if I can not breathe, my Lord. The boy binds it too tightly and the armor pushes the padding too tightly to my ribs, and I shall die of too little air."
Jeffrey reached a hand for the bandages and the leather padding Astin had been trying to place. Astin sighed and handed them off. "Go fetch his breakfast. I'll see to this."
Jared raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as Jeffrey stepped in close, covering the bandage already on Jared's skin with the thicker pad and putting the leather down over it. He wound the strap around Jared's chest twice before tying it down. "There. You can breathe and move and the wound is protected."
"The wound is fine." Jared said dismissively, dropping to sit on the cot and pull on his boots.
"You look rested."
"The damn courtesan fed me drugs to make me sleep." Jared growled. He looked up, green eyes dark with jealousy. "You smell like Jensen."
Jeffrey suppressed the smile. "I came from him just now."
Jared looked away. "He is well?"
"He awaits word of your victory."
Astin returned, a bowl of thick porridge in one hand, and a chunk of bread and dried meat in the other. "Malicus is in a fowl mood." Astin said, handing off the food to Jared. "He has been in the practice yard for more than an hour and nearly took another gladiator's head off for interrupting him."
Jared didn't respond, just dug into his food. Jeffrey turned to Astin. "His armor is ready?"
The boy nodded. "I was up half the night polishing it. He will shine in the sun today." Astin was nothing if not proud of his master.
"Good. I shall leave you to prepare then. Today is everything Jared. Your life is yours when it is over and you stand victorious before the king."
Jared stood. "And so I shall."
The crowd was thunderous as Jeffrey made his way to the royal box just before the fanfare to announce the arrival of the royal family. The king entered, waving to the crowded stadium, with Lucia and Fallon in tow behind him. Jeffrey bowed with the other nobility invited to view the games from favored seats.
The king smiled and beckoned him closer as Fallon withdrew, his hand already closing around a goblet from a servant. "I trust your boy is prepared?"
"I was with him only moments ago, Your Majesty, he is strong."
"And his wound?"
"Superficial."
The king smiled. "Good. Malicus is a proud warrior, he would not like to think he was being sent against an injured opponent."
"Please, it isn't as though the boy stands a chance." Fallon said as he joined them, looking down on Jeffrey as though he were a servant.
"Perhaps his Highness would care to consider a challenge?" Jeffrey offered.
"Like you have anything I want."
"Come now Fallon, hear the man out. You do like your gambling."
"I know what he wants."
Jeffrey raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What is it I want?"
"That whore of yours." Fallon drained his cup. "You want him back."
"Perhaps." Jeffrey toyed with cuffs on his robe. "Or maybe I'm interested in something more challenging."
The king looked at his son, then Jeffrey. "Do tell, my Lord, what is this challenge?"
"Your Majesty, your son and I have a running argument, over whether a man trained his whole life to fight as a gladiator could be any match for a man trained his whole life to lead armies into battle."
"I have heard this argument. Go on."
Jeffrey stood up straighter, his eyes rising to Fallon's face. "If Jared wins today, you face him on the sands of the arena tomorrow."
Fallon's face was red as he thrust his empty goblet at a servant and waited for it to be refilled. "And when he loses?"
Jeffrey glanced at the arena, then back at Fallon. "Should he lose, I will face who ever bests him."
The king's eyes sparkled. "I like this challenge Lord Jeffrey. A smashing close to the King's Tournament. No king in history could boast such a match."
Fallon drank from his goblet, his eyes cold steel on Jeffrey's face. "And should Malicus kill you on those sands?"
Jeffrey smiled. "Then give him his freedom, the same as you have offered Jared should he win today." Fallon sneered and turned to go sit down. "However," Fallon stopped, glancing over his shoulder, "should Jared best you, you must offer him something."
The king clapped his hands, grinning madly. "He shall have anything his heart desires, my Lord. Anything he can name."
"Then we have a challenge."
"Fallon?"
Fallon waved his hand dismissively and the king drew Jeffrey to their seats as the trumpets sounded and the crowd went wild.
The gates opened and the five fighters emerged. Rather than a series of elimination rounds, today's battle would be one fight, all five gladiators attacking one another until only one remained standing. Although the rules stated that a gladiator need only be unconscious to be considered finished, it was fairly certain that all but that one would die, because none of them would give up fighting while they could still breathe.
Jeffrey took a deep breath to still his rapidly beating heart and watched as Jared strode across the sand to take his position. He was at the opposite end of the stadium as Malicus. The five men turned to the king, who stood, holding up one hand.
The crowd stilled. Jared's hands adjusted his hold on his shield and sword. Other weapons dotted the walls of the arena. Nothing was barred today. Fists, feet, any weapon a man could lay hand to, all was fair. The king's hand fell and the crowd roared. As one, the five men took a step closer to the center, watching, waiting. As one, four of them turned on one. David, the oldest of them, the slowest, his bandaged leg obviously hampering him. He slashed at them, backing up and getting his shield up before Malicus landed a serious blow to his shield arm. The shield drooped and Jared swung around behind him, his sword emerging out David's stomach.
The applause was deafening as he pulled the sword free and David fell to his knees. The other two finished him off, his head ending up several feet away as blood sprayed over them.
Jared backed away quickly, wary, watching. He looked at Malicus, then the other two. Together he and Malicus closed ranks on the other two. Salvo and Campo, if Jeffrey remembered right, though he'd be hard pressed to tell them apart.
They squared off, two on two, dancing through the already bloody sand. Jared landed a solid blow to the thigh of his opponent and he stumbled. Malicus slashed the sword arm of his opponent, forcing him to drop the blade.
He pressed forward and the man twirled away, dropping his shield and racing for the wall and a weapon. That left Malicus to round on Jared's opponent. Together they trapped him between them, and though he fought valiantly he was heavily outmatched by either of them. He screamed as they took him, his blood spraying from his cut neck and stomach, painting Jared and Malicus red.
The crowd was thunderous. Malicus and Jared were both breathing heavily, turning now to face the last of the others as he raced toward them with two heavy maces in his hands, swinging them for all he was worth. Jared smiled, a gruesome, fearsome sight and lifted his sword.
He threw it as though it were a spear, knocking the gladiator over backward in the sand.
The people were on their feet chanting Jared's name. Jared hardly seemed to notice, raising his shield up to fend off Malicus who was already raining down hard blows. Jared took a particularly hard blow and shoved Malicus back, diving toward the dropped sword of one of the fallen. He came up with it just in time, blocking the blow that could have ended his life with the edge of his shield and driving the blade up. He cut the laces of Malicus' armor, slicing through his skin.
Malicus stumbled away, panting as he sought his balance again. Jared followed, his sword held at the ready. Metal rang out as sword struck shield on both sides, over and over until the ringing seemed to never end.
They were evenly matched and now the crowded yelled for Malicus as much as for Jared. They were both bloody and Jeffrey couldn't tell anymore if either of them were wounded or wearing the blood of others. Shields dropped as fatigue set in. Jared was the first to abandon his, tossing it aside and switching his stance to something a little more aggressive. He land five solid blows to Malicus' shield, finally forcing him to drop it. Swords rang out against one another then and the circled the arena.
Jared went over backward, catching Malicus in the stomach with his foot when he would have come in for the kill. Jared's powerful legs sent Malicus sprawling and Jared scrambled after him.
In the close struggle that followed, both lost their swords and when they finally got to their feet, Malicus was favoring one leg, while Jared held a bloody cut on his left arm.
They backed away, watching each other and moving cautiously. Malicus let his eyes dart to the wall, and weapons and Jared charged, plowing across the sand and taking Malicus down, slamming them back to the ground, his fists flying.
The two of them rolled through the bloody sand, fists pummeling at one another. They were so close and covered in blood and dirt it was difficult to tell who was who.
The sun glinted off of metal and Jared's voice reverberated around the stadium.
When the sound died, one man was unmoving on the ground and the other was pulling himself up onto his feet. The crowd was silent as the gladiator dragged himself toward the center of the arena. His hand wiped over his face and he looked up at the king's box.
Jeffrey's eyes closed. Relief flooded him. Jared collapsed to his knees, his hand still raised in victory. The stadium erupted.
Beside him, Fallon cursed, throwing his empty goblet away. The king stood, moving to the edge of the box. He held up his hands for silence and eventually got it. "Well done, Jared of the House of Morgan. You are champion. Go prepare yourself. Tonight you dine with the king."
Title: The House of Morgan 3 ( all of Courtesan can be found here)
Pairing/Characters: JDM/Jensen, Jared, OMC
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3280
Summary: Total AU. Jeffrey works them a little closer to what they want and visits Jensen one more time before Jared takes on Malicus.
A/Ns & Warnings: Violence. Also, I thought this was the second to last chapter. Turns out that it isn't. There will be two more chapters to follow this one.
Art, from
apieceofcake...Lord Jeffrey watched the Princess and her courtesan leave Jared's cell. The day had gone exactly as planned, aside from the wound. He stepped out of the shadows and Lucia stopped, gesturing for the courtesan to wait.
"My Lord."
"Your Highness." Jeffrey's eyes flicked to Jared's door and back again.
"He sleeps."
Jeffrey nodded. "That is good. He needs to win tomorrow."
Lucia smiled softly and they started walking again, slipping through shadows toward the palace. "You are such a romantic, my Lord. I would never have guessed."
"It has nothing to do with romance, Highness." He held the door open for her and followed her out into the walkway that would lead them back into a private hallway and up to the royal wing. "It is only a means to an end."
"This ridiculous rivalry between you and my brother?" Lucia shook her head lightly. "You have gone to great lengths to bring him here, Jeffrey. This is more." She stopped them as they reached her door. Her eyes sparkled up at him as she touched his hand lightly. "You love the courtesan just as the gladiator does. I see it on you. You can not stand that my brother took him from you…that Fallon cares nothing for him at all, but that he could take him from you."
Jeffrey crossed his arms and looked down at her. "If that were the case, Highness, why would I fight, not to get Jensen back, but to free him and see him off with the boy?"
She smiled and dropped her gaze. "As I said, you're a romantic, my Lord. Now, I should be getting myself to bed. Come, Merrin." The courtesan dipped in curtsey and opened the door. "Until the morrow, my Lord."
Jeffrey stalked away, through the halls and down to the Master of Courtesans' office. "I was beginning to think you weren't coming after all, my lord."
"I was detained." Jeffrey held out his hand for the key. He had convinced the king to give him one more night with Jensen, and if things went well, this would be his last opportunity. The man set the key into his hand. "Is he prepared?"
The master smiled. "That one is always prepared."
Jeffrey nodded and walked away. Jensen always was. He paused at the door, gathering himself. He needed to be calm, collected. He fit the key in the door and turned the lock.
Jensen stood in the center of the sitting room, resplendent in a robe of gold cloth and scarlet. Jeffrey's ruby sparkled against his chest and at his cock. He smiled slow and hesitant, but Jeffrey's grin was quick and heated.
Jensen curtseyed deeply as Jeffrey closed the door, pocketing the key. "My Lord, I was hoping you would come to me again."
Jeffrey put a hand under his chin, lifting him out of the curtsey. "I have waited for this." He kissed Jensen then, lightly. No rush, they had all night.
"I have prepared a light meal, my lord." Jensen said softly. "May I serve?"
Jeffrey nodded and cleared his throat. "Yes, please." He loosened his robe and sat on the couch. Jensen disappeared into the kitchen and when he came back he had a tray of cheeses and bread and a goblet of wine. He knelt beside Jeffrey and offered up the wine first.
It was a dark red, deep and spicy, just as Jeffrey preferred. "You must have known I was coming." Jeffrey said with a soft chuckle.
Jensen didn't respond, only reached for the tray, holding up a piece of cheese for Jeffrey's mouth. It was smoky and soft. Jeffrey chewed and swallowed, one hand stroking through Jensen's hair. "I have missed you, Jensen."
"And I, you, my lord." Jensen seemed to relax as Jeffrey fingered his hair and let Jensen feed him. "You allow me to use my skills to please you. I fear I might forget how some days."
"Prince Fallon has no appreciation of the gifts a truly gifted courtesan can offer. Pay him no mind, Jensen. You will be free of him soon enough."
Jensen froze, his hand half way to Jeffrey's mouth. "Is it true?" he breathed softly, not looking up.
"Is what true?" Jeffrey asked.
"Jared…he stands before the king?"
Jeffrey smiled. He wasn't sure where Jensen got his information, but he didn't put it past Lucia to keep him informed. "Indeed. Tomorrow, Jared stands with the remaining gladiators in a final battle. He has already been promised his freedom if he beats Malicus, Prince Fallon's champion."
Jensen's eyes were wide and more than a little frightened as they turned to him. "And what then, my Lord?"
Jeffrey leaned down to kiss him, his mouth soft and pliant. "If all goes well, his victory will enrage Prince Fallon enough to accept Jared's challenge."
Jensen pressed his lips together, shifting a little on his knees. "It is whispered that he is wounded already."
"Whispered?" Jeffrey sighed and nodded. "He took a blow today that cut his side. But both a surgeon and a courtesan with healing talents have seen to him. He sleeps even now and by morning will be ready."
He thought he saw a hint of jealousy flit across Jensen's face, but he pulled it back quickly. "He fights well, Jensen. You should be proud."
"I can not afford to feel pride, my Lord." Jensen set the tray on the low table and stood slowly. "It will show, and Prince Fallon…" He sighed and stepped away. "I fear for him, and what the prince will do to him before this is over."
Jeffrey stood, crossing to where Jensen stood near the bedroom door. He raised a hand to Jensen's cheek and Jensen turned into it, his lips brushing over Jeffrey's palm. "What do you fear?"
Jensen swallowed, his eyes closed. "If Jared does not win tomorrow, he will belong to Prince Fallon, just as I do. The prince despises him, he will cause Jared pain for no reason but the pleasure it brings him."
"Your whispers are well informed." Jeffrey kissed Jensen's forehead, drawing him close. "Jared will win tomorrow, he has sworn to, and he has never yet broken his word."
For a long moment Jensen said nothing, only leaned into Jeffrey. When he spoke it was without moving, his words slightly muffled against Jeffrey's chest. "It feels hopeless my Lord, to be here, trapped in this prison awaiting word…to know that he is out there…" Jensen swallowed and looked up. "And…if the prince rises to the challenge? If Jared wins tomorrow, if Prince Fallon agrees to fight him…what then?"
Jeffrey tried to follow his worrying, but Jensen pulled away, heading into the bedroom to smooth back the comforter on the bed. "Should the prince defeat him, Jared will surely die for the daring to challenge a prince of royal blood. And I will remain here, in these rooms, until he finally sickens of me and throws me out to the House." Jensen turned his back, obviously fighting back emotions he knew better than to show. "And should Jared win, and ask for me? Will the king oblige?"
Jeffrey reached out to touch Jensen's back and Jensen shuddered against him. "I believe he will."
"And if Jared dies?"
Jeffrey pulled Jensen to him, wrapping his arms around him. "You mustn't think of this, Jensen. Jared needs us to support him, to pray to the gods to keep him in their favor, not to question and doubt." Jensen nodded, turning in Jeffrey's arms. "Enough of this talk. Let us spend our few hours together thinking of more pleasant things."
Jensen drew in a deep breath and Jeffrey could see the professional demeanor slip over him. "As you wish, my Lord. Shall I help you out of this?" His hand slipped to the collar of Jeffrey's robe and Jeffrey nodded.
Jensen's hands were gentle as they stripped him, folding his robe and setting it aside before removing his own. "What is my Lord's pleasure tonight?"
Jeffrey slid a thumb over Jensen's red, red lips. "Your mouth. I wish to feel your tongue on my skin and your lips wrapped warm around me."
Jensen smiled softly and took his hand, guiding him to the bed. "Then come, my Lord. Lie back and let me please you."
The day dawned warm and the skies clear, a perfect day for the battle that would see one gladiator crowned as the greatest in the land. Jeffrey left Jensen fairly early, with the promise that he would send word as soon as the battle was decided.
He made his way to the stadium, and down to the row of cells where Jared slept. Jared was not asleep, however.
"Hold still." Astin's voice carried even into the hall.
"Leave it be." Jared's was brusque, almost irritated.
"The surgeon said to pad it well, protect it."
"I know what the surgeon said. I say leave it."
Jeffrey pushed the door open. "You should do as the surgeon says, it may see you through the day."
"I can not fight if I can not breathe, my Lord. The boy binds it too tightly and the armor pushes the padding too tightly to my ribs, and I shall die of too little air."
Jeffrey reached a hand for the bandages and the leather padding Astin had been trying to place. Astin sighed and handed them off. "Go fetch his breakfast. I'll see to this."
Jared raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as Jeffrey stepped in close, covering the bandage already on Jared's skin with the thicker pad and putting the leather down over it. He wound the strap around Jared's chest twice before tying it down. "There. You can breathe and move and the wound is protected."
"The wound is fine." Jared said dismissively, dropping to sit on the cot and pull on his boots.
"You look rested."
"The damn courtesan fed me drugs to make me sleep." Jared growled. He looked up, green eyes dark with jealousy. "You smell like Jensen."
Jeffrey suppressed the smile. "I came from him just now."
Jared looked away. "He is well?"
"He awaits word of your victory."
Astin returned, a bowl of thick porridge in one hand, and a chunk of bread and dried meat in the other. "Malicus is in a fowl mood." Astin said, handing off the food to Jared. "He has been in the practice yard for more than an hour and nearly took another gladiator's head off for interrupting him."
Jared didn't respond, just dug into his food. Jeffrey turned to Astin. "His armor is ready?"
The boy nodded. "I was up half the night polishing it. He will shine in the sun today." Astin was nothing if not proud of his master.
"Good. I shall leave you to prepare then. Today is everything Jared. Your life is yours when it is over and you stand victorious before the king."
Jared stood. "And so I shall."
The crowd was thunderous as Jeffrey made his way to the royal box just before the fanfare to announce the arrival of the royal family. The king entered, waving to the crowded stadium, with Lucia and Fallon in tow behind him. Jeffrey bowed with the other nobility invited to view the games from favored seats.
The king smiled and beckoned him closer as Fallon withdrew, his hand already closing around a goblet from a servant. "I trust your boy is prepared?"
"I was with him only moments ago, Your Majesty, he is strong."
"And his wound?"
"Superficial."
The king smiled. "Good. Malicus is a proud warrior, he would not like to think he was being sent against an injured opponent."
"Please, it isn't as though the boy stands a chance." Fallon said as he joined them, looking down on Jeffrey as though he were a servant.
"Perhaps his Highness would care to consider a challenge?" Jeffrey offered.
"Like you have anything I want."
"Come now Fallon, hear the man out. You do like your gambling."
"I know what he wants."
Jeffrey raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What is it I want?"
"That whore of yours." Fallon drained his cup. "You want him back."
"Perhaps." Jeffrey toyed with cuffs on his robe. "Or maybe I'm interested in something more challenging."
The king looked at his son, then Jeffrey. "Do tell, my Lord, what is this challenge?"
"Your Majesty, your son and I have a running argument, over whether a man trained his whole life to fight as a gladiator could be any match for a man trained his whole life to lead armies into battle."
"I have heard this argument. Go on."
Jeffrey stood up straighter, his eyes rising to Fallon's face. "If Jared wins today, you face him on the sands of the arena tomorrow."
Fallon's face was red as he thrust his empty goblet at a servant and waited for it to be refilled. "And when he loses?"
Jeffrey glanced at the arena, then back at Fallon. "Should he lose, I will face who ever bests him."
The king's eyes sparkled. "I like this challenge Lord Jeffrey. A smashing close to the King's Tournament. No king in history could boast such a match."
Fallon drank from his goblet, his eyes cold steel on Jeffrey's face. "And should Malicus kill you on those sands?"
Jeffrey smiled. "Then give him his freedom, the same as you have offered Jared should he win today." Fallon sneered and turned to go sit down. "However," Fallon stopped, glancing over his shoulder, "should Jared best you, you must offer him something."
The king clapped his hands, grinning madly. "He shall have anything his heart desires, my Lord. Anything he can name."
"Then we have a challenge."
"Fallon?"
Fallon waved his hand dismissively and the king drew Jeffrey to their seats as the trumpets sounded and the crowd went wild.
The gates opened and the five fighters emerged. Rather than a series of elimination rounds, today's battle would be one fight, all five gladiators attacking one another until only one remained standing. Although the rules stated that a gladiator need only be unconscious to be considered finished, it was fairly certain that all but that one would die, because none of them would give up fighting while they could still breathe.
Jeffrey took a deep breath to still his rapidly beating heart and watched as Jared strode across the sand to take his position. He was at the opposite end of the stadium as Malicus. The five men turned to the king, who stood, holding up one hand.
The crowd stilled. Jared's hands adjusted his hold on his shield and sword. Other weapons dotted the walls of the arena. Nothing was barred today. Fists, feet, any weapon a man could lay hand to, all was fair. The king's hand fell and the crowd roared. As one, the five men took a step closer to the center, watching, waiting. As one, four of them turned on one. David, the oldest of them, the slowest, his bandaged leg obviously hampering him. He slashed at them, backing up and getting his shield up before Malicus landed a serious blow to his shield arm. The shield drooped and Jared swung around behind him, his sword emerging out David's stomach.
The applause was deafening as he pulled the sword free and David fell to his knees. The other two finished him off, his head ending up several feet away as blood sprayed over them.
Jared backed away quickly, wary, watching. He looked at Malicus, then the other two. Together he and Malicus closed ranks on the other two. Salvo and Campo, if Jeffrey remembered right, though he'd be hard pressed to tell them apart.
They squared off, two on two, dancing through the already bloody sand. Jared landed a solid blow to the thigh of his opponent and he stumbled. Malicus slashed the sword arm of his opponent, forcing him to drop the blade.
He pressed forward and the man twirled away, dropping his shield and racing for the wall and a weapon. That left Malicus to round on Jared's opponent. Together they trapped him between them, and though he fought valiantly he was heavily outmatched by either of them. He screamed as they took him, his blood spraying from his cut neck and stomach, painting Jared and Malicus red.
The crowd was thunderous. Malicus and Jared were both breathing heavily, turning now to face the last of the others as he raced toward them with two heavy maces in his hands, swinging them for all he was worth. Jared smiled, a gruesome, fearsome sight and lifted his sword.
He threw it as though it were a spear, knocking the gladiator over backward in the sand.
The people were on their feet chanting Jared's name. Jared hardly seemed to notice, raising his shield up to fend off Malicus who was already raining down hard blows. Jared took a particularly hard blow and shoved Malicus back, diving toward the dropped sword of one of the fallen. He came up with it just in time, blocking the blow that could have ended his life with the edge of his shield and driving the blade up. He cut the laces of Malicus' armor, slicing through his skin.
Malicus stumbled away, panting as he sought his balance again. Jared followed, his sword held at the ready. Metal rang out as sword struck shield on both sides, over and over until the ringing seemed to never end.
They were evenly matched and now the crowded yelled for Malicus as much as for Jared. They were both bloody and Jeffrey couldn't tell anymore if either of them were wounded or wearing the blood of others. Shields dropped as fatigue set in. Jared was the first to abandon his, tossing it aside and switching his stance to something a little more aggressive. He land five solid blows to Malicus' shield, finally forcing him to drop it. Swords rang out against one another then and the circled the arena.
Jared went over backward, catching Malicus in the stomach with his foot when he would have come in for the kill. Jared's powerful legs sent Malicus sprawling and Jared scrambled after him.
In the close struggle that followed, both lost their swords and when they finally got to their feet, Malicus was favoring one leg, while Jared held a bloody cut on his left arm.
They backed away, watching each other and moving cautiously. Malicus let his eyes dart to the wall, and weapons and Jared charged, plowing across the sand and taking Malicus down, slamming them back to the ground, his fists flying.
The two of them rolled through the bloody sand, fists pummeling at one another. They were so close and covered in blood and dirt it was difficult to tell who was who.
The sun glinted off of metal and Jared's voice reverberated around the stadium.
When the sound died, one man was unmoving on the ground and the other was pulling himself up onto his feet. The crowd was silent as the gladiator dragged himself toward the center of the arena. His hand wiped over his face and he looked up at the king's box.
Jeffrey's eyes closed. Relief flooded him. Jared collapsed to his knees, his hand still raised in victory. The stadium erupted.
Beside him, Fallon cursed, throwing his empty goblet away. The king stood, moving to the edge of the box. He held up his hands for silence and eventually got it. "Well done, Jared of the House of Morgan. You are champion. Go prepare yourself. Tonight you dine with the king."
