The Champion's Prize

"It should be a good party tonight," Kathryn said, looking up through the trees at the blue sky. "The weather is perfect!"

"I hear there's going to be quite a feast." I said.

"Oh yes, Theodora has been working on this for a week." Kathryn said. "She's an excellent cook, and really knows how to run a camp kitchen."

"Will there be music and dancing?" I asked hopefully.

"Oh yes!" Kathryn smiled. "And much more."

"I can't help noticing that all the men seemed spoken for." I said glumly.

"That won't matter tonight!" Kathryn laughed mischievously. "It's the autumn solstice."

I looked at Kathryn with a blank expression. I had heard something on the radio about the autumn solstice, but I could not for the life of me see the connection between an astronomical event and a Renaissance Fair.

Kathryn chewed her lip and seemed to ponder something for a moment.

"How much has Alessandra told you about tonight?" Kathryn asked guardedly.

"Hardly anything." I answered.

"Well, I don't want to spoil Alessandra's fun; I know she has something special planned for you." Kathryn said mysteriously. "Don't fret, you're in very good hands with her, she won't let you come to any harm. Just remember the main rule; what happens on the Hill stays on the Hill."

Dozens of questions sprang to mind, but before I could ask any of them Kathryn saw William wave at her from outside of the food court.

"There's my man!" Kathryn exclaimed as she looked back towards the arena to where William, now dressed in a green tunic, stood talking with one of the Renaissance Fair organizers.

Kathryn hopped off the table and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. "Tell Alessandra I'm heading up to the campsite. I'll see you up there."

And with that Kathryn ran to William who swept her up into a warm embrace. They both waved at me before William headed up the track to the campsite carrying Kathryn in his arms.

Alessandra soon returned, and I passed on Kathryn's message. She nodded as she unpacked her shopping on the picnic table. "We will be heading up there soon too." She said.

"You know Alessandra, I think I'm starting to see the appeal of all these make-believe names." I mused. "There is something very... liberating about the idea of being someone else for a while."

Alessandra smiled, and nodded her head. "You are beginning to understand. Rachel is in the middle of a divorce, has bills to pay, an apartment to furnish, relatives to deal with and a host of other worries. Lady Evelyn, on the other hand, is a beautiful princess with not a care in the world! I know it sounds crazy, but I really think I would go mad without the escape of this kind of thing." She continued as she rearranged her shopping bags. "All the stress of the normal life we lead, all of the burdens -- we get to put them aside for a few days. Then as we say goodbye to our make-believe world and head back to our lives, we shoulder the burdens again. But we are stronger for the rest."

--*--

As 5 o'clock drew near and the shadows lengthened, the Renaissance Fair began to close up for the night. The crowds of tourists flowed back to their cars in the parking lot and headed away into the gathering dusk. The various members of the Fair staff busied themselves with close up duties; emptying garbage bins, collecting trash and making sure all the merchants stalls were locked up and secure. Members of the tournament company were responsible for the main arena and grandstands, and after these were set in order the members of the troupe all headed up a steep wooded hill to our isolated campsite. Alessandra and I had already set up our little tent in the early afternoon, and we were looking forward to cleaning up and relaxing prior to the big feast.

As we crested the hill the main campsite came into view; two rows of white canvas tents stood illuminated by the crimson hues of a magnificent Arizona sunset. The view was made even more breathtaking by the sunlit summit of the San Francisco Peaks, which loomed in the background. The tents were arranged to enclose a large oval space where two large fire pits, charged with fresh wood, stood ready for the night's festivities. Much of the ground between the fire pits was covered with old carpets and ragged quilts, and sparkling lanterns hung on the perimeter. At the northern end of the camp site, where the trail from our private parking area to the Renaissance fair below crested the ridge, stood an enormous boulder which loomed over the campsite like the ruins of some old castle.

In the middle of the eastern row of tents stood the feast pavilion, large enough to seat two dozen revelers comfortably at folding tables covered with decorative tablecloths. The pavilion's western walls had been removed, giving the feast goers a view of the fire pits and the dancers area. Directly across from the feast pavilion stood another large tent, it's door flaps thrown open wide to reveal a decadent collection of furs, carpets and pillows made from colorful fabric. Lit by soft lantern light, the champion's pavilion looked like the pleasure palace of some rich Sultan from an Arabian Nights fantasy.

All of the medieval style tents were open to the central area, and were sumptuously decorated within. All traces of modernity were discreetly covered by blankets, sheets or cloth dividers, giving the campsite a timeless and magical feel. Modern tents like mine were relegated to "the nylon ghetto" a short distance down a winding trail so as not to spoil the effect. After stopping at our tent to rest and freshen up, Alessandra and I returned to the main campsite just as the fire pits were being lit.

--*--

As Alessandra and I walked up to the front of the feast pavilion we saw the Red Knight sitting by a newly kindled fire pit, resting his bulk in a sturdy oak chair with his left leg propped on a wooden box. He had a large mug of ale in one hand, and a bag of ice in the other that he was holding against his knee. With his long wavy blond hair and beard, his colorful red and gold Viking tunic he looked as if he had just stepped out of a Norse epic.

Catching us out of the corner of his eye he awkwardly attempted to rise to his feet and greet us, but Alessandra stepped behind him and gently pulled his broad shoulders back into the chair, chiding him. "You stay right there Sir Ivan! We don't want you injuring yourself again on our account." Alessandra introduced me to Sir Ivan, and to his lady Theodora who came bustling out of the kitchen tent wiping her hands on her apron.

Short and plump, Theodora had beautiful skin, rosy cheeks and bright blue eyes, her face framed by blonde hair which hung in elegant ringlets. She was dressed in a colorful but practical Viking dress, at the moment cover by an apron. With the help of Roxana, Marguerite and the bustling squires, a magnificent feast was taking shape in the kitchen tent under her watchful eye.

Kathryn and William were sitting in decorative wooden camp chairs which had been arranged in a circle around one of the fire pits, along with the company's Knights and a few of the Squires. The fighters were talking about the day's tournament and drinking home brewed ale, a special batch being provided by Godfrey called "Autumn Harvest" that he was providing liberally from a large wooden keg.

Kathryn saw us approaching and waved cheerfully. "Sit, sit!" She said, indicating the empty chairs next to her. "The boys are talking sports again."

"I have to go help in the kitchens," Alessandra said, "but Lady Evelyn would be happy to keep you company."

"Oh, I would join you Alessandra" Kathryn said, "but Lady Theodora won't let me in the kitchen on account of my Irish heritage." She laughed, waving a lock of her copper hair.

Alessandra stepped behind Kathryn and massaged the back of her neck. "That and you're the guest of honor at the feast dear."

Kathryn smiled contentedly and wiggled her shoulders, purring softly.

Alessandra leaned down and gave Kathryn a quick kiss on the cheek before turning to me. "I won't be long. Have fun, and don't drink too much of Sir Ivan's cordials. He brews a mean orange blossom mead!"

"Mean? Did you call my mead mean?" The big man said in a wounded tone. "My mead isn't mean! It's friendly! It sidles up to you, ask you how your days been going, chats a bit about sports -- and only then" he said, raising a finger for emphasis, "only then does it club you in the back of the head with a mallet!"

We all laughed, and Alaric rubbed the back of his head with a pained expression. "Aye," he muttered, "I can attest to that!"

The conversation flowed freely as the alcohol; before long there were several bottles circulating around the fire filled with all manner of libation, most of them based on medieval recipes. Mindful of Alessandra's advise, I took only small sips and avoided the more potent beverages. As the sun sank lower, candles and lanterns were lit in the tents, the musicians began warming up and a trio of belly dancers arrived wrapped in cloaks and sat by the fire. As more of the company arrived, the chairs were rearranged to encompass both fire pits, giving the belly dancers the space between them to perform in. The drummers, using the ceramic Arabic drums called doubeks, began a slow hypnotic rhythm that seemed to draw the dancers out onto the floor where they began a slow, undulating circular dance. The conversations quieted as all eyes turned to the dancer's graceful performance.

--*--

William rejoined the company after changing in his tent, looking resplendent in a gold doublet, black hose, tall black boots and a kind of jacket made of an elegant green brocade that matched Katherine's dress. She smiled up at him as he placed a hand gently on her shoulder and leaned down for a lingering kiss. He then took his seat to her right, smiling as he accepted a bottle passed to him by Alaric. William was wearing a sort of crown of summer leaves, while Kathryn still bore the crown of flowers and ribbons William had won for her at the tournament. As they sat together enthroned in the firelight, they looked every bit the storybook Prince and Princess.

The dancers and musicians finished their set with a flourish and the crowd erupted into applause and cheers. A squire blew a small horn and announced that the feast was ready, which set off a flurry of activity as everyone moved into the feast pavilion carrying their chairs, drinks and cutlery. I was shown to a seat to the left of Kathryn where I was pleased to see Alessandra's basket of feast gear had been placed. Alessandra soon emerged from the kitchen tent and took her place beside me as the hungry throng settled in.

The feast before us was simply amazing -- I could hardly believe that it had not been professionally catered. The tables were set up in a broad "U" shape, facing the center of the encampment, with just enough room for everyone. Each table was provided with a platter of delicious cheeses, a basket of bread with oil, butter and other condiments, and decorative cornucopia overflowing with grapes, pomegranates, apples and a variety of dried fruit. Drinks flowed freely, with ales, wines, meads and rare cordials (almost all of which were handmade by members of the company) being provided by the attentive squires.

The banquet began in earnest with the arrival of the first dish of sweet meats, small pastries and a delicious vegetable stew. Each dish was brought first to the champion and his lady, then to the rest of the company when it met with their approval. Dish after dish followed, and glass after glass, until the night seemed to dissolve into a blur of exotic tastes, textures and sensations. Venison stew, hare and cherry pie, wild boar and duck were just some of the dishes I recognized. Alessandra described each dish to me as it was served explaining to me where and when the dish originated and what kind of spices and herbs were used in its preparation. I tried to take note, and managed to nod and grunt at all the right times, but truth be told I was beyond caring -- it was just delicious!

During the feast gifts were given to the champion and his lady, usually but not always in the form of a bottle of some specially crafted alcoholic beverage. Glasses were raised in toast, performers sang songs and recited poems between courses, and everyone ate their fill. By the time the final course of marzipan, baklava and sliced fruit came around the table I was in serious danger of slipping into a feast--coma, as were many of the other guests judging by the amount of jokes of the "wafer thin mint" variety. Alessandra, seeing my plight, excused us from the table and led me by the hand out of the feast pavilion into the cool night air to stretch our legs. After a short walk to the nearest "shrine of St. John" we returned to the campsite, refreshed and ready for the night's festivities.

By the time we made our way back, the party had moved back out doors as the tables were cleared in the feast pavilion. The thrones of the champion and his lady were brought out in front of the tent and set in a position where they could oversee the night's festivities. Other chairs, stools and boxes formed a large ring around the 2 fire pits, where members of the company settled in to watch the dancers who were beginning once again to sway to the hypnotic rhythm of the doubeks.

I slouched in my chair, feeling bloated and wonderfully buzzed as my eyes wandered from face to face around the fire. Perhaps it was just me, but I thought I felt a change coming over the mood of the revelers. A sense of excitement, anticipation and carnal desire seemed to be taking hold; I could see flirtatious smiles, coy glances and discrete caresses laden with unspoken promises of pleasures to come.

One of the musicians, a slender and beautiful young man with long dark hair, joined the dancers and began to undulate and sway with them. He was a skilled dancer and I could not take my eyes off of him as my mind filled with lustful thoughts. I felt a warm tingle spreading from my groin, the sensation spreading slowly throughout my body like being gently lowered into a warm bath. I squirmed in my seat when the dancers slow rotation brought the young man within arms reach in front of me. He glanced at me and smiled before dancing past, leaving me with a lump in my throat.

I was pulled back from my reverie by warm hands on my shoulders, giving me a little squeeze. I looked up and saw Alessandra smiling mischievously down at me, like a cat toying with a bird. She sat down in a chair beside me, leaning in to give me a soft kiss on the cheek.

"And how is Lady Evelyn?" Alessandra, she asked grinning.

"Oh..." I sighed, "What comes after wonderful?"

"You're about to find out sweetie!" Alessandra replied mysteriously.

"What do you mean?" I asked sitting up, my curiosity aroused.

"I mean the party is about to get started." Alessandra said softly, raising an eyebrow.

--*--

I started to ask a question, but Alessandra hushed me and pointed toward the northernmost fire pit where a commotion could be heard. The music faltered and stopped as a horn rang out, and a strange shambling figure concealed under a heavy black robe made its way before the thrones as the crowd parted before it. Leaning heavily on a staff, its face obscured by a black mask the apparition addressed the champion, speaking in an accent so heavy I could understand only a few words. The sense of high drama was accentuated as the company's Knights formed a protective circle around the champion and his lady, swords drawn menacingly.

"That is the Crone, an emissary from the Earth Goddess." Alessandra whispered. "They are speaking in Old English."

"What are they saying?" I whispered back.

"She says that the reign of light is ending, that darkness is coming." Alessandra whispered.

William stood, sword drawn and answered the crone with what sounded like a challenge of his own in the ancient language.

"William says he and his Knights will defeat the darkness." Alessandra said softly, continuing her narrative.

The old Crone stood her ground and admonished the champion and his Knights, speaking with dramatic gestures.

"The Crone is telling William that without the winter there can be no spring, without the snow the streams will not run... the land will wither into a lifeless desert." Alessandra whispered.

Kathryn then stood and placed a hand on William's arm, lowering his sword and speaking in a somber tone.

"Kathryn says that the Crone is right, and that the balance must be maintained between light and dark." Alessandra translated. "Now the Crone is saying that the champion must face the darkness alone and be reborn to give life back to the land and his people."

Heads bowed, the Knights sheathed their swords and stepped back. William kissed Kathryn farewell before tossing his crown of summer leaves into the fire and planted his sword in the earth in front of his throne. The Crone then took William's hand and led him out of the camp and into the darkness as Kathryn wept dramatically before falling into a faint on her throne.

A lone harpist then entered the circle of firelight and knelt before the thrones where he began to play a hauntingly beautiful but mournful song. Kathryn, seemingly in a deep slumber on her throne, is attended to by several ladies who replaced her crown of flowers with one of autumn leaves and Holly. As the harpist finishes, he retreats to the edge of the firelight as the Knights and squires somberly toast to great deeds of arms done that spring and summer. After a few moments of silence the drummers started their slow hypnotic pulsing as the belly dancers arose and began a graceful dance that gradually picked up speed, becoming quite raucous and wild.

Just as the music was reaching the point of becoming an unmanageable cacophony, a great shout went up and all eyes turned toward the northern fire pit where a large hooded and cloaked figure loomed out of the shadows and into the firelight. Casting aside the hood and cloak with a dramatic flourish, the tall figure leapt gracefully over the roaring fire pit, landing in a feral crouch amongst the dancers.

His outlandish costume consisted of little more than a mask adorned with rams horns that covered his upper face, and a fur loincloth that did little to hide his impressive manhood. He was smeared with green, brown and black body paint, with crude symbols and handprints overlaid in white. He looked like a cave painting brought to life as he capered and danced lewdly with the belly dancers. All the company gave a great cheer and raised their glasses in a toast to the wild man.

"Oh my God!" I whispered to Alessandra as I clutched her hand. "That's William isn't it! Who is he supposed to be now?"

"The Green Man, the Horned God, Dionysus -- almost every culture has a different name for him." Alessandra whispered back. "He's a symbol of male fertility and passion."

"I'll say!" I giggled. "That loincloth leaves nothing to the imagination!"

The Green Man danced madly, whirling like a dervish before bounding out amongst the company, accepting drinks and flirting with the women, speaking only with laughter and animalistic noises. Moving with the rhythm of the drums, he cavorted over towards Alessandra and I. Intimidated by this apparition of carnal lust, I stepped back a pace shyly. Alessandra stood her ground, meeting the Green Man's gaze as he stepped before her. Grinning broadly he rubbed up against her and from where I was standing I could clearly see his erect cock sliding against her thigh. Much to my shock, Alessandra quickly reached down with her left hand and grabbed his shaft, pulling him close for a quick and sloppy kiss. Grinning maniacally, the Green Man gave her a final pelvic thrust before completing his circuit of the company.