Page 148 of The Robber Knight
Reuben was very glad that he still wore hishelmet to cover his face, so that Sir Tomasso could not see hisexpression. He gave a hasty bow to other man and rode away,silently vowing to himself to definitely not underestimate thisparticular knight.
The herald, recovered from nearly being hitby a flying knight, had taken up his former position.
“And now,” he announced, “for the last joustof this round: Sir Albin Rakowski against Sir Hermann von derHagen.”
Now here was something of interest. Allthought of Sir Tomasso was shoved aside for the moment, and Reubenwatched intently as the contestants of the first real andsignificant joust of the day took up their positions. Both wereexperienced knights. Both had proven their abilities with thelance. Reuben was very interested to see how things would go. Hehad his suspicions as to who was the more ruthless fighter, but hewould keep those to himself.
Others were not so reserved. People in thecrowd were chattering energetically about who would be the winner,and Reuben saw the sun glint on gold as coins were exchanged. Thereseemed to be a good deal of betting going on here. Maybe he shouldgo and...
But no. The church frowned on gambling. Itwas not befitting of a true knight. He sighed. A pity. He couldhave made a packet betting on himself.
Sir Albin and Sir Hermann were in positionnow. The little Pole's horse was prancing nervously, and its masterpulled swiftly at the reins, quieting the animal at once. He hadgood control. Reuben nodded to himself, confirmed in hissuspicions.
“Ready?” the herald asked.
The two contestants, who could not nod withtheir helmets on, swiftly dipped their lances.
“Very well.Laissez-lesaller!”
The two knights urged their horses forward.Their control over their mounts was very near perfection, theirlances upright, their eyes hard. The crowd started shouting thenames of their favorites.
“Sir Hermann! Sir Hermann!”
“Go! Sir Albin, go!”
Neither of the knights paid the slightestattention to the distraction of the crowd. They raced towards eachother, ever faster. The movement of the lances coming down at thevery last moment was like the fall of an executioner's ax.
“Sir Hermann!”
“Sir Alb— Oooh...”
A sigh of disappointment went up from thespectators as the knights clashed and passed each other, both stillin the saddle. The Teutonic Knight had managed to break Sir Albin'slance, but that was all. The little Pole discarded the stump of hislance and grabbed a new one, almost knocking over the pursuivantwho handed it to him in the process.
There is somebody who'sangry, Reuben thought. The only question was: would theanger lead him to make an error, or would it lend strength to hisarm? Reuben thought he knew the answer.
Again, the two knights raced at each other.Again, they collided with a crash and were only knocked back, notoff their mounts. The shouting of the crowd was getting louder now.They were excited by the fierce combat of the professionalfighters.
A third time the knights faced each other. Athird time they flew forwards. And this time, there was no draw.Instead, there was a crash of metal and Sir Hermann thundered tothe ground, rolling over once, twice, three times, and finallylying still, dust welling up around him.
Reuben nodded to himself, while the scrawnylittle Sir Albin ripped his helmet off and galloped back to theother victors, his eyes flashing with dark triumph. It had come asReuben had suspected. Now, only four knights remained: Sir Tomasso,the two Polish brothers, and Reuben himself. The other three wereall excellent fighters. And they would learn soon enough what sortof a fighter he was. The time for downplay had passed. His armwould fly freely now.
The crowd was buzzing like a beehive inspringtime by now—only, bees didn't have that much money. Reubensaw bets being paid, and the coins staid ready in hand for renewedbetting as soon as the next pairs of contestants were announced.Reuben was just as eager as the crowd to learn that information, infact, ten times as eager. They were only thinking of money andentertainment. He was thinking of honor, blood, and glory.
“Only four of our noble knights remain,”exclaimed the herald. “And it has now been decided who shall be thefirst pair to fight. Please come forward and take up yourpositions... Sir Reuben von Limburg and Sir Adrian Rakowski!”
There were a good many gasps from thoseladies in the crowd who had already fallen desperately in love withReuben and now saw their hopes brutally smashed as the beefymountain of a Pole urged his charger forward to take up hisposition. Before he slid down the visor of his helmet, he gaveReuben a smile that revealed more than one rotten tooth and seemedto say: “You'll be dead before you know it, lad.”
Reuben returned the smile and slammed downhis own visor. The other man only saw his youth. He had overlookedthat while Reuben was not nearly as beefy, he was just as tall ashim. He also didn't seem to have noticed the thick bands of musclesaround Reuben's arms, or the dexterity of his movements.
Perhaps he needed a little demonstration?
Yes. Reuben urged his horse forward.Let us show him—show everybody!
The herald had raised his arm. He waiteduntil Reuben was at his place and had taken up a lance.
“Ready?” he asked.
No reply. Just a brief nod of lances.
