The Gauntlet
Loving Wives Story

The Gauntlet

by Ingbandor 17 min read 3.7 (19,600 views)
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This is a bit of a departure from my normal stories. This is based on the true story of Sir Jean de Carrouges and Sir Jacques le Gris as depicted in Eric Jager's 2004 book The Last Duel. His is a work of non-fiction. I've tried to create a fictional story that honors his work and the historical events it portrays while adding my own spin and some eroticism to it. I hope you like it.

*****

Château de Carrouges

France, 1384

"Are you ashamed of me?" the beautiful young wife asked her much older husband.

The grizzled veteran fixed his wife with a curious look, half smile, half frown, "Why in the name of God would you ask me such a silly thing, Marguerite?"

"We have been married for almost four years, Jean," the pretty girl stated, as she pulled a wild strand of blonde hair from her cheek and stared at her husband with her gray-blue eyes. "In all that time, you have never introduced me to society. I stay here, month after month, being your loyal wife, managing your household, and warming your bed."

"We had a party when we wed," he countered, "don't you recall?"

"Yes, I recall. It was an amazing party, my love," she said, smiling sweetly at him. "But that was four years ago. The music and the dancing were delightful, but I miss that, Jean. I grew up surrounded by art, by fashion, and by festivities. I love you and will do as you say, but I need to hear music, to laugh, and to dance. I long to be around other people and to socialize. You know that I have never complained that you do not take me to court with you, as the other lords do with their wives, not once in four years. But, I'm asking you now, Jean, can we please go to the party at La Ferté-Macé, to celebrate the birth of Squire Jean Crespin's son?"

"So that's what this is all about," Jean de Carrouges replied, grinning and pointing his finger accusingly at his young wife, the former Marguerite de Thibouville. "I already told you no. I've only recently returned from the campaign in Flanders, and there is already talk that I may be asked to lead an expedition with the Scottish in England. I am a busy man with many obligations. I have no time for parties and frivolities."

"Is it that you are busy," Marguerite asked, giving word to the thoughts she has been harboring, "or is it because of your loss of favor with the Count and your recent troubles?"

Jean de Carrouges was the last in a long line, in a wealthy and powerful Norman household. However, in the previous several years, Jean had fallen on hard times, losing power, position, and considerable wealth. He blamed his slide on two men: his feudal lord, Pierre d'Alencort, Count of Perche, and his former friend and fellow squire turned rival, Jacque le Gris.

For many years, Jean, following his father, had served the prior Count of Perche, Robert d'Alencort. Jean became a squire to Count Robert, where he became best of friends with a fellow squire, Jacques Le Gris. Unlike Jean, Jacques came from a poor family, who only recently gained nobility. The two squires were constant companions, serving together in campaign after campaign, against the British throughout Normandy. Under Count Robert, Jean was well-placed and respected and was on track to one day inherit all of his father's domains, titles and wealth.

In 1367, the English burned and sacked Jean's family estate, and the cost to build a new castle laid a heavy burden on their treasury. Jean was given the castle at Carrouges, while his father and mother lived in their more prestigious estate at Bellême or Campomesnil. He looked forward to the day his father would pass away and leave him everything. Unfortunately for Jean, that would not happen for many years.

In 1370, Jean married his first wife, Jeanne de Tilly, receiving a substantial endowment from her father, the Lord of Chambois. This influx of land and money helped alleviate much of Jean's financial woes. Already heavy with child at their wedding, she soon gave him a son and heir. As a sign of his endearing friendship, and at the suggestion of his wife, Jean named Jacque Le Gris as his son's godfather. There had even been discussion of calling the boy Jacques.

Jean loved his wife and was happy with his life. He was gaining favor at court with the Count, who rewarded Jean for his military efforts against the English. He had an heir, and his financial prospects were promising. What more could a man want?

In 1377, Jean's fortunes began to change. Count Robert died, and his older brother Pierre inherited Perche and all that came with it, including the services of the squires Jean and Jacques, as well as Jean's father. Unlike Count Robert, Count Pierre was less warrior and more courtier. He was a cousin to the King and spent much of his time in Paris. Jacques found favor with Pierre, whose castle of Argentan was closer Jacques, allowing him to spend more time at court than Jean. Jacques was educated and fit the courtly lifestyle, being both a warrior and a cleric. Jean, on the other hand, was unable to read and write and was more at home on a horse, wielding a sword. He was steadfast, stable and one might say boring, while Jacques was flamboyant, enjoyed the company of many beautiful women, loved politics and dancing equally, and was socially adept.

Jean eschewed courtly life and was content to avoid it. Jacques preferred the excitement of the palace and neglected his military duties as much as he could. He was a large and fierce fighter, much larger than Jean, but preferred diplomacy to combat. Jean began to begrudge his friend's rising place with the Count, making note of the gifts and honors the Count felt compelled to bestow upon Le Gris and not on him. Rumors said that Jacques le Gris attended the Count in his bedchambers nightly.

Jean spent much of his time away, in the field, commanding the Count's armies against the English. While he was away, his wife Jeanne would attend the Count's wife in court or travel to spend time with relatives and the wives of other nobles, including the wife of Jacque le Gris. She enjoyed the balls and feasts that always seemed to be going on in Argentan.

Shortly after Count Pierre inherited Perche, and after Jean had returned from an extended mission abroad, he ordered Jean away again on a three-month campaign against the English. Jean was exhausted and did not wish to go back so soon. He questioned why the Count was sending him, instead of Le Gris. His challenge was viewed as insolence by the Count, causing Jean to lose even more favor.

Before leaving, Jean and his wife had a bitter argument. She wished to spend the time while he was away in Argentan, but Jean was worried about the lurid stories he heard of court and the number of men, like his friend Jacques, who had no reservations about seducing married women. Jean was angry for several days following his departure, taking it out on the English.

One night near Carentan, as Jean prepared for the next day's battle, he received a messenger from his estates. A sickness had swept through his lands in his absence, and his wife and son were deathly ill. He broke camp and returned home to find they had both died. He was a broken man, alone, with no heir and in his forties. In his mind, his future was bleak, with no hope for the life he had once envisioned. He responded by returning to the front and throwing himself into the conflict. It was also at this time that his friends noticed his growing hatred for Jacques le Gris.

Some say Jean had a death wish. It was a reasonable conclusion to draw. For almost half a year, he remained in the field, fighting in battles against the English at Beuzeville, Coutances, and Carentan. He gained a reputation among the English as a fierce warrior and commander. As the warring season drew to a close, Jean and what remained of his command withdrew and returned home.

It was during this time that he met and married Marguerite, and restored his joy of living. That joy was quickly tempered when the fertile lands her father had promised him as part of her dowry, Aunou-le Faucon, were not transferred. Jean learned that instead, Sir Robert had sold the much-valued lands to Count Pierre, who, in turn, gifted them to none other than Jacques Le Gris, for his service to the court. Jean was furious as he felt cheated out of his legal rights to the land. He became even more incensed when he heard the rumor that Jacques Le Gris was behind the whole thing, having given Count Pierre the money he used to buy the lands from Sir Robert.

It appeared to people that the friendship between Jean and Jaques, that had been cracking, now shattered apart. In truth, that friendship had died with his first wife.

Outraged at the loss of such a valuable property, Jean de Carrouges took the unprecedented step of filing suit against his overlord Count Pierre and appealed to the King to return Aunou-le Faucon to him. Everyone tried to dissuade Jean from this course of action, including Count Pierre, who offered Jean other lands as a way of apologizing. However, Jean would not be deterred, and he pressed his charges.

The King was forced to make a ruling, and he published a proclamation upholding Count Pierre's rights to the land and to do with them as he wished. Jean lost the suit and lost more favor with the court. Things for Jean would only get worse.

Two years later, his father died, and Count Pierre surprised everyone by not granting his vacated role as Captain of the fortress of Bellême to Jean, but someone else. It was customarily a hereditary title, but by denying it to Jean, Count Pierre was perhaps getting some revenge on his squire for the prior lawsuit.

Nonplussed, Jean filed suit against his lord again, demanding the Captaincy be given to him. He lost again and fell further into disrepute. Jean's fortunes continued to decline. He needed more land and new sources of income. So, he saved up enough money to buy the fiefs of Cuigny and Plainville from his friend and neighbor Sir Jean de Vauloger. As was the custom, any such transfer of land had to be approved by the feudal lord of the region, who in this case was Count Pierre. It came as a shock to Jean that Pierre disallowed the sale and instead confiscated the lands for himself.

Faced with no recourse, Jean accepted his plight but decided he would leave Count Pierre's service and strike out on his own. Recently, a King's agent asked Jean to lead the French army to Scotland, to fight the English on their land. It could make Jean enough wealth to change his life, not to mention the chance to gain his much-coveted knighthood.

"If you go to Scotland, you'll be gone for months, maybe a year or more!" Marguerite declared, growing forlorn. "I can't stand to be alone, Jean. The least you can do is take me to this party, and let me have some fun before you have to go. It's in a fortnight; you won't be going to Scotland until Spring. La Ferté-Macé is to the west, far from Argentan, Count Pierre, and Jacques Le Gris. You know they won't be there. You don't have to hide!"

"I'm not hiding, woman!" Jean shouted, "I don't want to be near those bastards. If I see Le Gris' ugly face, I cannot guarantee I won't kill him."

"I doubt he would come," Marguerite said, trying to persuade her husband, "You said he's too busy seducing all of the wives of the men at Count Pierre's court to waste time traveling so far west to attend the festival for the birth of the son of a man he scarcely knows."

Jean considered her words. He wanted to please his wife. If attending the feast would make her happy, perhaps he should relent. If he did have to go to Scotland, it could be a long time before he returned.

Jean de Carrouges had married Marguerite in the hopes of producing sons. Unfortunately, in the four years since their marriage, they had not produced any children, let alone heirs. His biggest fear was that his wife would meet someone else, someone younger, more virile who would seduce her. As a noble, his wife needed to give him legitimate sons as heirs, not the bastard offspring of an affair with a lover. This was the main reason he had kept her isolated at his castle.

"The party may do you some good, put you in a better mood," Marguerite said softly, her voice turning sultry and seductive. "That might help with your' situation.'" She raised her eyebrows and glanced down at her husband's crotch.

The 'situation' she referred to was that, quite often, Jean was unable to get or maintain an erection when they attempted to have sex. It wasn't that he didn't desire his beautiful, fertile wife. He did, but often when things would progress, he would lose his potency in the middle of the act, causing him to deflate and be unable to continue the penetration. Marguerite had taken to stimulating him in many ways, but the results were hit and miss.

"I'm sure we will have more luck after some dancing and music," Marguerite continued. "Plus, I hear they are going to have a tournament. Wouldn't jousting get you in the mood?"

"Jousting?" the warrior said with a wry smile, "I didn't know there would be jousting. Since you put it that way, I will reconsider."

"You will?" Marguerite asked excitedly, jumping to her feet. She threw her arms around her battle-hardened husband and kissed him passionately. "Thank you, Jean! We could endeavor once more to get me with child, if it pleases you. Would you like me to use my mouth again to see if that helps?"

Jean de Carrouges smiled at the enthusiasm of his inexperienced wife. She had the energy and sex drive of youth, which was invigorating. As he stared at her beauty, he was acutely aware of the expression: "a young wife of an older husband will not stay true for long." He was afraid that taking his wife to the party at Jean Crespin's home would risk exposing her to other men who might try to seduce her. Even more frightening was the idea that one, in particular, might succeed.

"I am but a poor squire, bereft of arms and armor. I am no match for your weaponry or your ferocity my beloved," the elder husband told his wife, playfully. "I surrender my sword to your most talented sheath."

With that, Jean drew his wife to him and kissed her hard on her pretty mouth. He loved Marguerite with all his heart and had from the moment he laid eyes upon her at her uncle's castle some five years earlier. He had believed his first wife was the love of his life, but that love proved fickle. She had died along with her son, and the secret of her betrayal perished with her. The only other person alive who knew of it was the scoundrel himself.

No one knew why Jean's heart had turned against his former friend and the godfather of his son. He had trusted the man and considered him a brother. What brother would seduce his brother's wife under his brother's own roof?

It wasn't a petty rivalry that drove Jean to hate Jacques le Gris. It was not the favoritism shown to him by the Count, nor was it his growing power and wealth that aroused the Lord of Carrouges to despise him so. It was that Jacques le Gris had seduced and bedded Jeanne, his beloved wife.

When he had discovered the truth, he confronted his wife. She made no effort to deny the affair but blamed it on Jean's continuous and prolonged absence. When Jean had pressed her to name her lover, she refused, so he beat her until she confessed that it was his closest friend, Jacques le Gris. Jean was furious and wanted justice.

"Surely, he forced himself on you!" he demanded of his wife. "Confess the truth and swear an oath, so that I can have him hung for his crimes!"

"I've told you the truth!" Jeanne fired back. "He did not rape me! I willingly gave myself to him. I fucked him, and I liked it. If he wanted me again, I'd gladly fuck him right now."

Jean lashed out, striking his wife with the back of his hand, splitting her lip and sending her crashing to the floor. Just then their five-year-old son ran into the room and clung to his crying mother.

"On the morrow, we will go to the Bishop, and you will confess before him and God Almighty that Jacques le Gris raped you, or so help me, I will kill you myself."

"He didn't rape me! He is kind and gentle and loving. He is everything you are not and is ten times the man you will ever be! You think this was the first time I've been with him?" She laughed cruelly. "You want proof it wasn't rape?"

Jeanne pushed her son upright from her bosom and turned him to face Jean. "Look at him! Whose face do you see when you look in his eyes? Yours? Here is the proof it was not rape! A woman cannot become with child through rape! My son is proof that Jacques did not rape me! To swear otherwise would be to swear falsely before God, and this I will never do!"

His wife's words tore through his soul. He stared at the innocent face of his son and saw it, the glint in the eye, the shape of the nose, the chin. It was like looking at a younger version of his childhood friend. It felt as though she had driven a dagger into his heart. Stunned, Jean fell to his knees.

"If you would kill me, then do it now, and kill my son with me," Jeanne said as she fought back her tears. "May God forgive you, but I never will."

Jean rose to his feet, gathered his weapons and traveling pack, which had not even had time to empty and left. There was a war to fight. There was always a war to fight somewhere. When Jean returned home, it was to bury his wife, her son, and her secret.

"I'm sorry, Jean, but it doesn't seem to be working," Marguerite said as she let his limp cock slip from her lips. "My jaw is tired, may I rest a bit?"

"What?" Jean asked, sounding confused. His mind was adrift in another time.

"It isn't getting hard, my love, your cock," Marguerite said, quickly pumping her hand on the flaccid flesh.

Jean suddenly realized that his wife had been using her mouth to attempt to arouse him. Jean was in no mood for it and pushed her away. "If you were better at it, or better looking, it would work," he scolded her. "Leave me in peace!"

Marguerite knew better than to anger her husband. His temper was legendary, and she had been on the receiving end of his wrath more than once. She quickly stood and walked toward their bedchambers. At the last moment, she stopped and turned back.

"About the party?" Marguerite asked, biting her lip.

"If it silences your begging, then we will go," he gave in. He felt terrible for speaking harshly to his bride. Marguerite was only trying to do her duty as a wife. He had to remind himself she was not Jeanne; she was Marguerite. She was free from the sins of his first wife.

"But, you must swear to me," Jean said solemnly, "before God, that you will stay away from Jacques le Gris. I do not trust him. He is a seducer and a user of women, especially the wives of men he resents."

"I swear it, of course, my love," Marguerite said immediately. "I am yours, and no man will ever change that."

Jean smiled at his bride and felt a stirring in his loins. He stepped toward his wife and grabbed her backside, "Then let's get to bed quickly before my cock changes its mind."

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