The foursome were wondering the Mideval street in silence, each alone with their thoughts. They passed shops and small hut like houses, people bowing down to them or shooting scorn at Willow, but they ignored everything. They were only thrown from their trance by a man leaning out the window of pub, wagging an empty mug at Spike.
"Hey, mate, whattcha doin'? You better get back in here 'fore the boss notices!" he called.
"Better go," Buffy told Spike firmly.
"But I don't want to..."
"Get drunk for free, have fun raping a girl, just go!"
"Gone." With Spike's departure, Willow looked a little lonely.
"What's wrong, Will?" Xander asked her, putting a loving arm around her shoulders.
"Well, Spike was helping me cope with the scorn and the threats... Now he's gone, I don't think I can take it..."
she said, almost frightened.
"What? You think just because an evil thing was helping you, you should be all alone? No, mamm. Me and the Slayer are here to protect you from harm!" Xander protested.
"But are we even sure I'm the Slayer anymore?" Buffy asked, a little exasperated.
"She's right. Spike isn't a vampire, I'm not a wimp, but Will, she's still a witch."
"Well, this world is strange and new to us, Xand man. Maybe we'll find something new every leg of the journey, but I'll be glad to be getting home, myself. We should be trying to figure that out, soon. But first, explore, explore, explore."
The three friends linked arms and traveled onward down the street, challenging their latest adventures head on.
*****************
Spike was hurried into the bar by his work mate. He grabbed him by the wrist and threw him down on the ground behind the bar.
"The place is crowded, man. I had to cover for you in front of the boss!" Spike figured this was pretty bad.
"Oh, sorry mate. A few of my mates and I... We had a bit of catching up to do," he replied hoping it was the right answer.
"That's just like you," the other man muttered angrily. "You have to do those things *off* duty."
"Look, I'm sorry, alright? I had to... Come on, man, you have to understand?" He looked at the man pleadingly, hoping in this reality, it was the right thing to do. The man was short and mousish, just the kind of man he wanted to kill. He had somber gray eyes that told volumes of mistrust and lies.
"No, I don't. It better not happen again. Now," he stood up and grabbed a huge barrel of the shelf, shoving it into Spike's stomach. "Fill this up."
Spike stood up and galred at him, but obeyed. He went over the wall where taps for ale and beer were. Spike filled it with Amber Broth Beer and palced it back on the shelf. He walked over to the counter, his face probably turned into a permanet scowl. "What do you want?" he demanded of the drunk customer.
*****************************
"Me Lady Buffy. Where is Lord Alexander?" the gaurd asked.
"I'm here," Xander called from his perch cowering behind Buffy.
"Ah, why are you hiding? Come on, man." The man grabbed Xander roughly and pulled him away from Buffy and Willow. He didn't even have enough time to protest.
"Wait, where are we going?" Xander asked when the man finnaly released his wrist.
"To the jousting feild, man. Where is your head today?" The man who had dragged him away from the Buffster and Willow was very tall, almost three full heads taller than Xander. His biceps were very large and bulged even through the loose fitting clothes men seemed to wear these days. His legs and gluts also seemed to fill his pants pretty well, even though Xander was trying his best not to notice that fact.
"I had a few beers with Spike," he explained. He followed the man, but had no catch on the man's fast pace.
"Alexander, man! The King will not be happy! He *never* comes to Whitecharcol! You better make it worth his while! You are the King's First Man, after all!" the man shouted.
"I know, I know. It wasn't very smart. But the nerves...." Xander was doing his best to put a simple solution to a complex fact.
"The what?"
"Nerves."
"What does that mean?"
"Never mind. Now, what am I gonna have to do?"
"What do you mean? The usual."
"What's the usual."
"Your squire said you were a bit o' trouble, but I had to say you probably weren't at all, he was being silly. Now, you are *jousting* to prove your skill in the tournament, man. First round! It's agianst a new lad, it shouldn't be too hard for a knight of your stature."
"My stature, huh? Jousting should be fun then. What's my horse's name?"
"I believe you are using Bar Wench today."
"Bar Wench? Is she any good?"
"What the hell is wrong with you, man?"
"I just had to much to drink. Just humor me, will you?"
"Alright. I'll bare with you, for the time being."
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"Yeah."
"Yeah?"
"Never mind."
"Why are you talking so funny?"
"What? Haven't you been to the King's Court lately?"
"Never in my life."
"See, there's your problem."
"Alright. I don't understand a single word you say, but let's saddle up your horse."
The man ran through the way to saddle a horse for Xander and then he brought out Bar Wench. She was an auburn horse with a flaming red mane. She sort of remined him of Will. He slowly ambled up to her and patted her on the muzzle. "Hey girl," he whispered into her ear. She leapt up and knocked him over with her hooves. He had the wind knocked out of him and his pride crushed and a huge purple bruise across his chest and hay sticking out of his hair, but otherwise, he was unharmed.
He got up off the ground, brushing the straw out of his hair and clothes and approached the horse again, this time throwing hte woven carpet saddle protection on her back. She didn't rear or move at all. That was good. Xander then threw the saddle across her back and knoted the straps underneath her warm stomach.
He saw her bit was already properly placed in her mouth and he put his sheild on her side in the proper handle. His sheild had a dog and a sword placed in the ground in front of the dog. Apperently the Harris emblem. He then selected the lightest and shortest of his many lances from the rack and strapped that to the other side of Bar Wench. "Done," he said proudly.
"Good job for being a drunk. Now, let me put your armor on." The man came over and strapped a breastplate to his chest, stirrups on his legs, and a heavy metal helmet on his head. He could barely breath in the thing, but he figured it was better to wear this without complaint then suffer a fatal head injuiry in the dangerous sport of jousting. "Are you gonna be able to do it?" the man asked. "Because you can keep your diginatity and not win the tournament, or be tottaly humilated in front of the King himself, who trusts you above all others." Xander gulped.
"I can do it," he said, hoping it was more confident than he really was.
He mounted Bar Wench and steered her out onto the jousting feild. He took his place in the pen. Bar Wench was snorting and spinning in circles in impatience. He grabbed up his lance and looked at the other guy. His face conveyed no nervousness at all. He hoped his face looked just the same, but he knew it was unlikely because his lance was shaking in his grip.
"Okay, moving on," he told himself. "We know you're nervous, but we don't know is that you fight very well and *will* win." He was boosted a little by the fact that Buffy and Willow were among the cheering crowd, smiling and waving at him. He smiled back, hoping it told them it could do this. Judging by their waves of encouraging hoots, he thought not.
A woman stepped out, her clevage very exposed, even more so than Buffy's. "I present to you, ladies and gentle bastards..." This envoked hordes of laughter form the crowd. "Lord Alexander, The King's Man, and Lord Malcomn, a new knight looking for a fight! May the best man, win." And she dropped her scarf. Malcomn and his horse started charging.
"Better go!" He kicked Bar Wench in the ribs and sent her charging, straight for Malcomn.
**********
Spike overheard some of the men he served discussing a jousting match that would take place in a few minutes.
"Aye, Lord Alexander. He aught to beat the land, but hopefully he'll show some mercy." Spike snorted, turning away from men while he whiped down the table. *Xander* show *him* mercy, *he* better show *Xander* mercy.
"Oh, he is a noble man, he will. Let's go, or'll be late!" The three men left and Spike found the wheels in his head turning. He called over his bar mate.
"Hey, man, I'm leaving. Got to show a friend some support. I might be back." Spike left the bar without the man saying anything. Hopefully, he wouldn't miss a minute of Xander's gruesome defeat.
********
Xander gripped his sheild tightly, feeling the leather brace against his arm, ready for the contact of a lance point knocking the metal against his arm. He gripped his lance harder between his fingertips, feeling the power shift positions. He felt the sweat trickle down his forehead, across the bridge of his nose. He felt tension build in his chest, almost like lust. It was invigirating, but also sent raw splashes of fear up his spine.
He kicked Bar Wench in the ribs and the horse was sent galloping at his opponent. He leveled the lance against the man's exposed chest, his only opening. He made sure that when Bar Wench was close enough, he wouldn't miss. He felt his arm get musled, he wasn't tired and he felt the horse's body underneath him, also very muscled and toned. He felt her hooves banging against the ground, felt her strangled wild breaths beat against his legs, so tightly wrapped around her lower body. Bar Wench was close enough and Xander closed his eyes.
He heard a roar of anticipation from the crowd, heard them screaming, yelling for the two jousting knights. He felt an impact against the cold, unforgiving metal of the sheild. He felt it bash against his arm, sending a shake through him like a gong. He felt his lance connect with metal and he felt it break in two. He felt Bar Wench turn around. She seemed to know what she was doing even if Xander didn't.
Xander heard metal and bones hit the ground, hard. He opened his eyes, if only for a second, to see his opponent, wounded on the ground. He was holding his chest, a huge dent where Xander's tattered remains of a lance had hit him. His breathing was fast and frantic. The King was looking down from his high thrown, nodding to Xander to do with his opponent as he wished. Kill him. Xander looked down at the man, so scared, so alone and smiled. He got down of his mount and offered the man a hand. Malcomn looked up at him with thankful eyes and greedily took his help.
"You okay?" Xander asked when Malcomn was at his feet.
"Yes, sir. But why?" Malcomn looked appreciative, but not quite convinced Xander still wasn't going to kill him.
"Why what?"
"Help me? Aren't you going to kill me for my weakness, make sure I can never fight again for my failure to you and the realm?" It seemed like the poor guy had thought about it a lot. He couldn't be much older than Xander. It seemed like this was his whole life and Xander had brought it crashing down to his feet.
"No, I'm not going to kill you. It seems like you've got your whole life ahead of you. Just go. You have enough shame and I'll get no happy killing you..." Xander was trying to sound noble, but he felt as lost and sick as this poor guy, so he couldn't think of much to say himself.
Xander looked around for Buffy and Willow. He spotted them as easily as he had the first time. Will was jumping up and down, cheering his name. That was typically Willow, always pushing things past the limit. Always encouraging. Buffy was sitting and clapping, very proud, but not taking it overboard. He noticed a figure next to her, not as happy at Xander's victory. Spike. He had unhappy written across his face. Xander ambled over to them, beaming.
"Great job, Xand!" Willow cried, throwing her arms around Xander's neck. Xander gave her a hug back and put her arms back at her sides.
"Yeah, Xander. I can't believe you actully won. Knocked a guy off a horse, a guy in metal!" Buffy said, laughing. She gave him a pat on the back, but it had less Slayer stregth behind it then it normally would have.
"Yeah, I came here to see you lose, thanks for the dissapionment, mate," Spike growled irratably.
"Sorry to disapoint my greatest enemy, Spike. Man," Xander shook of the dented sheild still hanging on his arm. "That was hard."
"I bet."
********
It was dark after the feast was over. The King had asked Xander and all his friends to dinner, including Spike, who gorged and got very, very wasted. Xander, Willow, and Buffy had to drag him back to the house. Buffy was glad she had her own room and didn't have to sleep with her "husband", though Xander wished it wasn't so. He didn't have a thing for Buffy anymore, but he had to admit, she was his second best friend, next to Will, of course.
Xander layed down, his whole body aching from the day's activities. His mind swam, but he wasn't really thinking about anything at all. His stomach was full and he was exhausted. He closed his eyes on the Middle Ages and felt glad, for the first time today, that he was here. Even with Spike.
Note: This is the end of the chapter, dudes. Thanks for stickin' with it.
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