Chapter 11

Despite Thedrick being a bit unsure at first about trusting Beowulf again, the soldier had kept his word so far and had not tried to hurt or kill the jester again, hadn’t told anyone his secret and also had not even said anything bad about the fact he was a vampire. In fact, things went mostly back to normal for them, their relationship picking back up from where it had been before they had gone to visit Beowulf’s mother.

Balthasar had warned Thedrick several times about being so quick to trust Beowulf again, but the jester couldn’t help it, he was smitten. And it would seem that the soldier was equally so, considering how quickly he seemed to get over the whole blood sucking vampire thing. When Beowulf wasn’t on guard duty, they spent nearly every moment together.

They’d wander through the castle, Thedrick perched on Beowulf’s shoulder, chatting away to him as he walked. They’d sit in the garden or courtyard together, Thedrick often playing his lute and singing for Beowulf. They made no effort to keep their relationship a secret and would get glares from castle guards passing by that saw Thedrick sitting on Beowulf’s lap.

Thedrick knew Beowulf was being ostracised and even given a rough time by the other soldiers for associating with the jester, but the big man didn’t really appear to care. It seemed that Beowulf wasn’t going to listen to the repeated advice from Cassian about choosing his company carefully. Thedrick wasn’t offended by this, Cassian had always treated the jester quite well and didn’t seem to have anything against him personally, he just knew how all the soldiers felt about Thedrick and was trying to keep Beowulf out of trouble.

Of course, Cassian had been right, and hanging out with Thedrick inevitably attracted trouble for Beowulf. The thinly veiled threats from the other soldiers eventually came to a head one evening, when Thedrick and Beowulf were taking a stroll together through the gardens surrounding the castle. Thedrick was walking backwards ahead of Beowulf as he spoke and gestured his way through a story when suddenly the soldier came to a halt under a large tree they had been passing by.

Thedrick’s story died off as he also stopped walking, looking up at Beowulf’s helmet questioningly. He realised the soldier seemed to be looking over the top of him, and so quickly spun around to see what had caused him to take pause. Thedrick felt a slight shiver run down his spine as he saw a group of three guards approaching them in the dark, the moonlight reflecting off their armour. As they got closer, Thedrick could see that it was Emil who was taking the lead of the group.

As the guards came closer, Thedrick started to backpedal, until he was quickly stopped by having backed up into Beowulf. He glanced up at the large soldier nervously but couldn’t see his expression as his face was covered. Beowulf raised a large, armoured hand and placed it down gently on Thedrick’s shoulder. Thedrick was comforted by this and faced the approaching guards with a little less anxiety. He was safe, Beowulf would protect him.

“Ah, well, if it isn’t Beowulf and his little toy,” Emil sneered as he approached, looking between the two of them.

“What do you want, Emil?” Beowulf asked, squeezing Thedrick’s shoulder slightly.

Emil pouted slightly and raised his arms in a full body shrug. “I’m just taking a nice evening stroll with my friends. A whole bunch of my very good friends,” he said, and glanced around the garden. Thedrick looked around and took in a sharp breath when he saw the moonlight glinting off a bunch of armoured bodies coming towards them from all directions.

The soldiers approached silently, stopped a short distance away just as Emil and his two closest lackies had. They had Beowulf and Thedrick more or less surrounded. Thedrick glanced between all their helmets nervously, feeling his body stiffen up with anxiety. Then he looked back at Emil, the only one with his helmet off, and could see the growing smile on his face as he saw Thedrick’s reaction.

“Well then, I do hope you enjoy your evening Emil,” Beowulf said in a very neutral tone, not seeming nervous at all.

“Oh, I think I will, once you hand the jester over to me,” Emil said slyly, holding out a hand toward Thedrick. Thedrick flinched away, back pressing up against Beowulf’s hip.

“Was I not clear enough when I told you to leave him alone, Emil?” Beowulf said in a low and threatening tone.

“Was I not clear enough when I advised you to stay away from him, or else you’d make enemies?” Emil retorted, gesturing to the soldiers surrounding them with a sweep of his arms.

Thedrick was silently watching this exchange while swallowing nervously. There seemed to be only one way this interaction was headed, and even Beowulf might struggle to fight them all off while protecting Thedrick at the same time.

“What do you want with him?” Beowulf asked, a question he surely knew the answer to. Thedrick thought perhaps it was to buy time or because he was looking for a way to talk Emil down and avoid a fight.

“Come on big guy, you’ve been keeping him all to yourself. Why not be a good sport and share him around a bit?” Emil said, making a hip thrusting gesture before bursting into laughter, many of the soldiers laughing along with him. “Nah, we just want to teach him a little lesson. After all the times he’s insulted us, it only seems fair.” Emil pressed his fist into his palm to demonstrate his intent of violence against Thedrick.

“I won’t let you hurt him,” Beowulf growled, his grip on Thedrick’s shoulder tightening which made the jester wince slightly.

Emil sighed dramatically with another shrug. “Then I guess we'll just have to teach you a lesson as well. Can’t say you didn’t have this coming,” the soldier said with a smirk. The sound of steel being unsheathed filled the quiet night air as the surrounding soldiers drew their weapons while Emil grinned arrogantly.

Thedrick’s heart was pounding as fear surged through him, and he was surprised when he was suddenly grabbed around the waist and lifted off his feet. Before he could even ask Beowulf what he was doing, the soldier had thrown Thedrick straight into the air with full force. As he flew upwards, Thedrick suddenly realised what Beowulf was doing, and quickly reached out to grab the tree branch in front of him before he fell down again. The jester scrambled to get up on top of the wooden limb, and once he had his balance, he peered down at what was happening below him.

The surrounding soldiers were closing in on Beowulf, who after seeing that Thedrick was safe, turned his attention back to them. Emil’s closest lackies were approaching him too, but Emil himself remained where he stood, crossing his arms over his chest. Beowulf carefully watched the soldiers stepping towards him with their weapons raised.

A soldier on either side of him charged at him and swung their weapons. Beowulf stepped quickly towards one of them, reaching out and catching the sword mid-air with his metal gauntlet, then pulled it forward, pulling the man who was still holding onto it off his feet and sending him crashing to the ground. Beowulf let go of the sword and raised his gauntlet in time to deflect the blow from the other guard, the recoil from the suddenly halted swing causing the soldier to stumble backwards.

More of the soldiers came at Beowulf now. Some blows he deflected, some he took, while knocking the smaller men off their feet by pushing them over or kicking their legs out from under them, or even lifting them off their feet to slam them into the ground. Two of the soldiers Beowulf grabbed by the head and knocked their helmets together, resulting in a deafening clang that rang out across the garden and left the two of them dizzy, easy to knock over. Beowulf grabbed one soldier’s weapon arm with both hands before he could land a blow, and bent it until the man was screaming. There was a cracking sound as the sword fell from the soldier’s grip, and when Beowulf let go the man stumbled away, clutching his broken arm to his chest.

Soon Beowulf had either knocked over or disarmed all the soldiers who had attacked him, and they were either backing away or trying to struggle to their feet around him. The strong scent of Beowulf’s blood filled the air as some of the soldiers had managed to get a hit in on him. The large man stood in the middle of them all, breathing heavily and glancing around at them, waiting to see if any would attack again.

Thedrick looked over at Emil who’s smug grin had fallen away as he watched all his friends get knocked down by Beowulf. Now Emil was glancing around at the other soldiers in disbelief as the ones still standing moved away slightly, eyeing off Beowulf warily. They looked at their leader for guidance.

“Anyone want another go?” Beowulf growled, clearly quite out of breath and stooped over holding his shoulder. The soldiers looked at each other, then started dropping their weapons if they still had them. They cautiously moved in and started helping their downed friends to their feet, proceeding to assist them to hobble away into the night.

“Hey, where do you lot think you are going?” Emil called out in frustration, but the men only turned back to glance at him before continuing to shuffle away. Landyn, who had removed his helmet, dragged his friend over to Emil and then collapsed with him at his feet, panting heavily.

“Hey Emil, why don’t you fight him yourself and show them how it’s done?” Thedrick jeered from his perch, grinning at the distraught look on the soldier’s face. “I’d love to see Beowulf squash your stupid head like a melon!”

Emil looked up at Thedrick and bared his teeth at him. “This isn’t over!” he snapped as he helped Landyn to his feet, and then the both of them got on either side of the other soldier to lift him up, staying under his arms to support him to walk.

“I think it probably is,” Thedrick called out as the group limped away. As they left, Thedrick swung down from the tree branch and landed lightly on his feet on the grass. As he straightened up, he saw Beowulf fall to one knee as he continued to clutch his shoulder. Thedrick ran quickly towards him as the big man lowered himself into a sitting position on the grass.

“Hey, Wulfy, are you okay?” Thedrick asked with concern, looking at where Beowulf had his armoured hand pressed against his shoulder. The intense smell of the blood pumping out of the wound was overwhelming Thedrick a little, just like the time Balthasar had pulled an arrow out of the soldier.

“I’m… not sure… I think so?” Beowulf said very uncertainly between panting.

“Here, let me help,” Thedrick offered and reached out to Beowulf’s chest, quickly undoing the hook on his cloak, and letting it fall from his broad shoulders. Then he helped Beowulf untie and pull off his brigandine and then shirt, exposing the shoulder wound to the air. There was a fair bit of blood, and Thedrick couldn’t help but stare at it while salivating.

“It uh… doesn’t look too bad… you’re just… quite the bleeder…” Thedrick said, swallowing deeply while Beowulf folded up his shirt and then pressed it against the wound, before looking up at Thedrick.

“Oh good lord, I can see your fangs Thedrick!” Beowulf exclaimed, followed by a chuckle when Thedrick quickly covered his mouth. “You’re looking at me like I’m a juicy steak. You really want some of this, don’t you?” Beowulf nodded towards his bleeding wound.

Thedrick suddenly fell to his knees next to Beowulf and looked up at him imploringly, clasping his hands together in front of him. “Please please please, just let me have a little taste,” he begged, unable to get his fangs to retract.

“Wow, it’s suddenly like you don’t even care that I’m injured, even after I just took a beating for you,” Beowulf said in a light-hearted tone, looking at Thedrick through his visor.

“Wait, no, it’s not like that! It’s just… ugh!” Thedrick made a sound of frustration and buried his face in his hands. “I’m sorry…”

Ever since Beowulf had become mostly okay with Thedrick being a vampire, the jester had been trying to subtly convince the soldier to let him drink his blood. But Beowulf always looked nervous and uncomfortable about it when he asked and turned him down, and Thedrick had been trying to accept the idea that he might not ever get a chance. But here was Beowulf’s blood going to waste when Thedrick could be drinking it instead, which seemed rather unfair. Until Thedrick remembered that Beowulf just got injured protecting him and he shouldn’t be so selfish and ungrateful about that.

“Well… I supposed there would be no harm in you cleaning it up…” Beowulf said unsurely, pulling his shirt away from the wound. In a moment Thedrick was climbing up onto his lap and pressed his mouth against the wound, sucking and licking at the blood. He felt Beowulf’s muscles stiffen, and the soldier let out a small grunt of pain.

But that wasn’t enough to make Thedrick stop because the taste was amazing. The flavour filling his mouth was just as good as it had smelled, as he had hoped it would be. Thedrick’s other senses almost fell away entirely, and his brain went blank as he was overwhelmed by his instincts. It was all he could do to hold himself back from biting down, which he was sure Beowulf would not appreciate.

Thedrick couldn’t entirely tell but he was pretty sure his eyes were rolling into the back of his head as he frantically licked and sucked the wound clean. He was entirely lost in the ecstasy of feeding, clinging to Beowulf’s naked torso, he would be unable to pull himself away even if he wanted to.

But eventually the blood flow slowed and Thedrick licked up the last drops. Then slowly his senses returned to him, and he blinked as his vision came back into focus. He felt the warmth of Beowulf’s torso against his, and then realised that large arms were wrapped around him and holding him close. Thedrick took some deep slow breaths to calm himself down as he licked his lips.

“Aha… sorry… are you alright?” Thedrick asked as he pulled back slightly to look at the now clean wound.

“I’m fine,” Beowulf assured, petting Thedrick gently on the head, causing the bells on his hat to jingle quietly. “Look at you… your mouth is covered in blood and your fangs are still out,” the soldier mused softly, lifting up his stained bloody shirt and using a clean part to wipe across Thedrick’s mouth.

Thedrick blushed as he was cleaned up, trying to get his fangs to retract but finding himself unable to while the smell of the bloody shirt filled his nose. When Beowulf was done Thedrick leaned back as much as he could to encourage the soldier to let him go. Beowulf released Thedrick from his hold, allowing the jester to get up out of his lap and rise to his feet.

Beowulf struggled to his feet with several groans of protest. He picked up his brigandine and put it back on over his bare chest, pressing the shirt against the wound, letting it be held in place by the leather armour which he loosely tied on. Thedrick grabbed up Beowulf’s gigantic cloak and handed it up to him. Beowulf pulled it around his shoulders and hooked it together at the front.

“You should probably get Baz to look at the wound…” Thedrick suggested, giving the soldier an awkward smile.

Beowulf looked unsure. “The other soldiers might have gone there too, depending on how much I hurt them. I was trying not to hurt them too badly…” he said softly.

“It could get infected though! Don’t worry, if they are there, they won’t act up around Balthasar… unless they want their heads bitten off by both him and Cassian…” Thedrick reassured, taking one of Beowulf’s huge hands in both of his and pulling him gently towards the castle.

“If you insist…” Beowulf said reluctantly, and started following behind Thedrick, allowing himself to be pulled along by the jester.

When they made it to the infirmary, they could hear voices coming from inside, already letting them know some of the soldiers had made their way here. Beowulf stopped at the door, seeming still hesitant about going in, but Thedrick pushed open the door and walked through, knowing that Beowulf would follow him to keep him safe.

The room fell quiet as Thedrick entered, followed by Beowulf. Around the room various soldiers who had been the most badly knocked around were lying on the sick beds, with some of their friends sitting next to them. All their eyes turned on the entering pair before a chorus of hushed whispers broke out. Thedrick noticed some of them were looking at Beowulf in fear.

Balthasar obviously noticed something was going on, as he got up from where he was kneeling next to one of the beds and turned to face the door. When the chirurgeon noticed them he sighed and gave them a tired look as they approached him.

“They attacked us!” Thedrick quickly said in defence as he stopped in front of the tall man.

“I know,” Balthasar said wearily, looking between the pair of them. “Are you hurt?”

“Beowulf is, they got him in the shoulder,” Thedrick explained.

Balthasar let out another sigh. “Come over to my desk and sit down, Beowulf,” Balthasar instructed, and turned to walk over to his desk. Thedrick and Beowulf followed behind, still surrounded by whispers in the room. Beowulf took off his cloak and brigandine again, dropping them to the floor before taking a seat in Balthasar’s chair and pulling the shirt off the wound.

Balthasar leaned down and inspected the wound, and then shot Thedrick a look of suspicion. Thedrick grinned awkwardly back at him, trying to look as innocent as possible.

Balthasar sighed yet again as he poured some clear liquid on a cloth and wiped down the wound, causing Beowulf to gasp in pain. Then the chirurgeon picked up a needle and thread, and Thedrick noticed Beowulf physically recoil slightly as Balthasar threaded the needle and reached towards him with it.

“Come now, don’t be such a big baby,” Balthasar snapped as he started sewing the wound closed. “You just landed a group of soldiers in my infirmary, and you’re scared of a little needle?”

“I didn’t mean to-” Beowulf cut himself off with a sharp intake of breath as the needle pressed into his flesh again.

“Well don’t say I didn’t warn you this might happen, because I’m pretty sure I did,” Balthasar muttered grumpily.

“Hey, it’s not our fault, Beowulf was just protecting me from them!” Thedrick pointed out indignantly. “They should all be punished.”

“Oh, and they will be,” Balthasar growled as he started tying the thread off. “Once I tell Cass about this, as soon as they are on their feet he’ll be running them through drills for days straight. Who was the one orchestrating this? Was it the one who dropped his friends off here and then hightailed it?”

Thedrick had noticed that Emil wasn’t present, so he nodded in response.

“Ugh, typical rich brat with an oversized ego, that one,” Balthasar grumbled as he packed the needle away. Beowulf got to his feet and handed Thedrick his bloody shirt so he could use both hands to put back on his other garments. Thedrick gripped the shirt tightly, the smell of blood on it filling his nose. He wanted to bury his face in it, but he refrained.

“Thank you, Balthasar,” Beowulf said once dressed again, with a nod towards the chirurgeon.

“You’re welcome… though next time if you could try not to break any of their bones, that would be helpful,” Balthasar quipped sarcastically.

“I’ll try…” Beowulf said light-heartedly, then proceeded to usher Thedrick towards the door. Thedrick glanced at the other soldiers as they passed by, who were glaring at the pair of them, before he was pushed into the hallway.

“I’m… exhausted… I’m going to turn in for the night… take care Thedrick,” Beowulf said, before turning to trudge down the hallway towards the barracks.

Thedrick watched him leave, clutching the blood-soaked shirt in his hands which Beowulf had apparently forgotten. He slowly lifted it to his nose, and took in a deep breath, the smell of Beowulf’s blood and sweat filling his senses.