Page 28 of The Sword and the Damsel
There were chuckles from the crowd at that.
“As a reminder, this is a friendly competition,” Daniel continued. “Lances are to be directed at the body only. Heads, limbs, and horses are strictly off-limits. For the melee, you are aiming to knock down, disarm, or touch your sword to the chest or neck. You are not to wound or kill. When you are knocked down, disarmed, or touched, you will be asked to leave the field. Lord de Vere and I will be judging. If we tell you to leave the field for any reason, you must do so. If you cause serious injury to any of your opponents or disobey any of the rules, you will be removed and disqualified. Is everyone clear?”
The competitors shouted their agreement.
“Then I propose a toast to your honor and valor!” Daniel raised his goblet and took a drink.
The competitors raised theirs as well and took a quaff.
“Let the tournament begin!”
The competitors exited the field, half to the blue side and half to the red. Soon trumpets announced the first joust. Alaiswatched as Lord Guy and an older knight from Eastborne she’d never seen before lowered their lances and charged at each other. Lord Guy knocked the other knight off his horse, and he landed with a clatter in the sand. Daniel declared Lord Guy the victor of the first challenge.
Alais did her best to look interested, but she’d always found jousting a bit boring and repetitive if everyone was following the rules. If not, it could get bloody and gruesome quickly, which was always more interesting even as it was horrifying. She shivered, remembering the tournament she’d attended when she was twelve where a stray lance pierced a weak spot in a knight’s armor and impaled his shoulder. It was supposed to be a friendly competition, but she knew the weapons were sharp and the deadly danger all too real. She said a silent prayer that no one died today.
The initial eight rounds were uneventful except for Victor and an unfamiliar knight from Hawkhurst. The knight from Hawkhurst aimed slightly too high, and Victor was forced to throw himself from his horse at the last second to avoid being impaled through the neck. Daniel had the knight from Hawkhurst removed from the competition, but since Sir Victor didn’t follow through with the joust, he couldn’t continue to the next round. As Sir Victor was leaving the field, Sir Robert watched him intently. She couldn’t hear what Sir Robert said, but she could see the sneer on his face. Sir Victor gave him an intent look and walked away without a word.
“I wonder what that was about,” she murmured to Iselda.
“Very odd,” Iselda answered, having also watched the exchange. “Didn’t Sir Robert save Sir Victor’s life in Spain? I thought they were friends.”
“Very odd indeed.”
As the competition continued, Alais found herself wondering about Sir Robert’s character. She didn’t like the idea of beingmarried to someone who could behave so unkindly. The more she thought back over her interactions with him, the less impressed she was. She began to see a pattern of self-importance and pushiness. Even his insistence on pinning his clasp onto her this morning—he didn’t even ask before he did it. He just reached out and did what he wanted. She would have to avoid encouraging him quite so warmly.
The field had been narrowed to two final competitors, Lord Louis and Sir Robert. They took their places, lowered their lances, and charged. Alais couldn’t help a momentary smile as Robert was knocked onto his posterior with a great crash and an undignified grunt. She managed to school herself into a look of concern by the time Sir Robert looked up to see her reaction. He seemed nonplussed to have her watching his humiliation and stomped off the field with his horse. He was a sore loser too, apparently—not the most attractive of attributes.
Daniel declared Lord Louis the winner of the joust and invited him up to the front to claim his reward. A groom brought out the horse, and her mother ceremonially handed Lord Louis the reins before the stable hand took the horse back for safekeeping during the rest of the competition.
Then Lord Louis leaned in and whispered something to her mother that made her titter and blush. She bent her head to kiss him on the cheek and at the last moment, he turned so that her lips landed on his mouth.
She jumped back in surprise and said, “You naughty man!” But she was grinning like a cat with cream.
Lord de Vere shook his head at Lord Louis in disapproval. Lord Louis shrugged. “What can I say? You have a lovely wife, and youdidgive me permission to kiss her, just this once.”
“Never again,” grumbled Lord de Vere, as he wrapped a possessive arm around her and gave her a lingering kiss on the lips.
“Martin, everyone is watching,” she objected when he released her.
“I don’t care,” he said, giving her a look that made her blush.
The audience loved it. They were hooting, whistling, banging on their seats, and doing anything they could think of to make a racket.
It took Daniel several minutes to get their attention again. “And now, we will begin the melee. Is everyone wearing their colors?” He looked at the competitors arrayed at either end of the field and confirmed that they were all wearing red or blue tabards over their armor, according to their team. “Remember the rules, my lords. Lord de Vere and I will be watching carefully. Are you ready?”
The men yelled in response.
“At the sound of the trumpet, you may begin.”
The trumpet sounded, and the knights ran at each other. There were seven on each side. After the removal of the knight that jousted against Sir Victor, Lord Louis had graciously offered to forgo further participation so that the numbers would be even. Swords clashed, and the battle began in earnest.
Alais watched the chaos and quickly picked out Sir Victor from the others. There was a smoothness and grace to his movements that made all the others look ungainly and awkward. Unfortunately for him, the rest of the blue team wasn’t nearly so strong. He was the best swordsman on the field, but the blue team was soon outnumbered, as her father and Daniel escorted the fallen off the field.
Sir Victor danced and twisted and turned, knocking down Lord Guy and disarming another knight before he found himself fighting Sir Robert, Sir Elias, and someone she didn’t recognize. Her heart raced as she watched, and she clutched the arms of her chair, craning her neck to see each movement.
He fended them off, spinning like a dervish. She was having difficulty seeing what was happening, the movement was so quick. Sir Elias jabbed at the gap in Sir Victor’s armor beneath the left arm and left a vivid red gash.
“No,” Alais gasped, half-rising from her chair.
