2.
Flashback
"YEEEEEEESSSSSSS!!!" screamed Wat in triumph, jumping up and down and grabbing Roland to get him to join in – he was always the most excitable of the group, but on occasions such as these, the rest were only too glad to follow his example.
"WOOHOOOOO! Go on, Will … er, Sir Ulrich!" cheered Roland, filled with pride in his young friend.
"Come on!" yelled Geoff, for once getting straight to the point as he threw his arms in the air in delight. The tall herald then turned to Kate, the tiny Scottish farris, spinning her around as she laughed and clapped excitedly with the rest of them.
They all ran to greet the victorious jouster, hugging him and banging him on the back as he clambered off his horse and tugged off his battered helmet to reveal a shock of unruly blonde hair and a broad grin plastered on his face.
"Did you see that?" he demanded gleefully, "BAM! Right off his horse!"
"Of course we saw!" retorted Kate, "Why else would we be jumping up and down like lunatics?"
"We-ell …" began Geoff with a sidelong glance at Wat, only earning himself a clip round the ear from the hot-tempered redhead who was always quick to take offence.
However, the would-be knight was not to be distracted. "And what of my lady?"
"What of her?" murmured Kate, but her remark went unnoticed by the men.
"Jocelyn, did she see?"
"Yes, she saw." answered Geoff.
"Did she see me take that hit before?"
"Yes, she saw you take the hit – I already told you …"
"And?" prompted Will eagerly, sighing at his herald's blank look. "Was she concerned?"
Growing tired of such questions which were always put to him following a joust, Geoff rolled his eyes impatiently. "It was dreadful. Her eyes welled up. It was awful."
In spite of his flippant way of answering, that seemed to appease Will – but only for a second.
"And when she knew I had won?"
"May the saints lend me strength!" groaned Geoff, "The earth had never seen such rejoicing – satisfied?"
"You do but mock me!" complained Will.
"If you will ask foolish questions, you cannot expect other than foolish answers."
Finally Kate interrupted, like Geoff she too had heard enough of Jocelyn – they would neither of them have minded if he didn't go on so; twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, it seemed. "Are you men going to stand there and yap all night? Honestly, you're worse than a bunch of old maids! Are we going to the tavern to celebrate or not?" she asked.
"TAVERN!" yelled Wat, obviously thinking of his stomach, again.
Roland nudged the writer in the ribs as they all followed Wat's enthusiastic lead, a smirk on his face. "I suppose now it'll be you we have to listen to, waxing lyrical on that tavern girl again – you might be more wordy about it, but you're no better than Will, you daft git!"
"I resent that!" he protested, "Wordy indeed! I believe poetic is the term you are looking for …"
"Gobby, more like!" grinned Wat over his shoulder, though he never slowed his pace in his eagerness to get to the tavern and, more importantly, the food.
Geoff simply ignored such taunting and squared his shoulders as he too marched on. "I am not to blame; I cannot help myself – I cannot be held responsible for my actions, afflicted as I am …"
"Where have we heard that one before, I wonder?" mused Roland, "Perhaps someone should warn the poor girl Geoff's afflictions usually result in a distinct lack of clothing on his part …"
"If I have to see your scrawny arse naked again …" warned Wat in a threatening voice, that thought being the only thing to actually stop him in his tracks and momentarily distract him from visions of food. "I will fong you, Chaucer! I'll rip off your arms and … and beat you … round the head with them … I'll … and … PAIN! Lots of pain!" he ranted, becoming so worked up he could hardly speak and his cheeks turning a similar shade of red to that of his hair.
However, the writer just smirked and pushed past him to fling open the door of the tavern and stride through. The others followed him, Wat close behind as thoughts of trying to satisfy his insatiable hunger once again took priority; and so, when Geoff stopped dead, they were all caught off guard – Wat knocking into him and almost sending him sprawling and Kate ending up almost squashed between Will and Roland.
"The strike is swift and true, my heart pierced by such an arrow …" Geoff announced theatrically, clutching at his chest as he stood in the doorway, his gaze fixed on a figure across the room.
"Chaucer's been shot!" yelled Wat animatedly, completely oblivious to the concept of metaphor, "Someone's only gone and shot the bugger!"
"Your concern is touching …" said Geoff, not wanting to miss the chance to tease Wat in spite of everything. "But it is the arrow of the surest of archers which causes my heart to cease its beating – Cupid has found his target!"
"So you ain't dying or nothing then?"
"Only of heartache caused by longing …" the poet declared.
"Good, 'cos I want to be the one to KILL you!" shouted Wat before lunging at him furiously and having to be restrained by Will and Roland.
Geoff fended him off, all the while staring across the rowdy, crowded tavern.
"I must know more of her …" he murmured, before merely pushing them all aside and heading off in the direction of a redheaded young woman.
"I'll rip … and tear … and I'll … I'll FONG you!" hollered Wat, making the rest of the group laugh even as they clung to him and tried to wrestle him into a seat so they could watch the herald's quest.
End Flashback
Geoff had to smile to think of that day – that day ever etched on his memory as the day he was fated to learn more of the object of his affections, having until then only watched her from afar.
"Ah, Ellena …" he sighed, looking down at her and seeing she had dozed off again, nestled by his side and with one hand resting lightly on his chest. "Little did you know that, even then, you had been appointed keeper of my heart …"
Taking care not to wake her, he lifted her hand and pressed a tender kiss to its palm before replacing it on his chest, holding it to his heart. If only things could have been that simple …
TBC ...