Page 52 of Chivalry in the Meadow
By the third Joust of the day, the meadow shimmered beneath the sunshine. Mia watched it shimmer and wondered if there was something wrong with her eyes since Lilly couldn’t see it. She wasn’t going to ask her anymore.
When she got home, she was going to make an appointment with the eye doctor, just to make sure there wasn’t something wrong with her.
The lists were alive again, with the thunder of hooves, and the cries of the crowd. Music floated from a nearby pavilion where dancers spun in bright skirts.
Mia and Lilly each used their new white parasols to keep the heat from beating down on them, making them sweat more than they already had been. It was an unnaturally hot spring day in May. One fairgoer said she’d heard on the news that it was a record breaker.
The sun bore down heavily. Mia was glad they’d refreshed themselves back at the tent.
They stood near the barrier rope, pressed between laughing children, and flushed noblewomen who fanned themselves.
Sir Cedric was on the field, his white and gold surcoat vivid beneath the shining sun. He tilted against Sir Rowan once more, the clash drawing gasps from the audience as both lances splintered mid-strike.
When Sir Cedric turned his destrier to salute, his eyes found Mia’s instantly, the corner of his mouth curling in that infuriating, magnetic smile.
A shadow fell across her.
“You shouldn’t let him charm you so easily,” Sir Alaric’s voice said at her shoulder. He stood beside her, close enough that she caught the scent of leather and steel. “He’s as dangerous as any foe in the lists. Perhaps more.”
“And you’re not?” Mia asked, tilting her head.
A hint of a smile ghosted his lips. “At least I’d tell you where the danger comes from.”
“Even if it comes from you?”
“Even so,” he nodded. “I would.”
Before she could reply, a ripple of movement passed through the crowd. A momentary disruption, like water disturbed by a stone.
Lilly, who’d been leaning over the rope to watch Sir Elias prepare for his match, suddenly flinched. She looked down.
“Lilly?” Mia’s voice sharpened. “What’s wrong?”
“Something brushed my ankle,” Lilly said. “I thought it must be a stray dog. It had a long skinny tail.”
They both looked down but saw nothing except dust and the hem of Lilly’s skirt. Then they heard faint chittering, quickly swallowed by the cheer of the crowd.
“What was -” Lilly said, but her words cut off as Sir Alaric moved past them in a fluid stride, muttering, “ratteem,” his gaze fixed on the narrow gap between two vendor tents behind the lists.
Mia stared after him.
Ratteem? What does that mean?
Sir Cedric was suddenly there too, after dismounting mid-cheer, and tossing his reins to his squire to catch.
“Stay here,” he told Mia.
Both knights vanished into the gap; the sunlight swallowed by canvas walls.
The crowd’s noise seemed to recede, leaving only the drumbeat of Mia’s heart.
Seconds later, Sir Cedric reemerged, his smile back in place, but his eyes sharper. “Nothing to worry about,” he said smoothly, as if the words could erase the tension in his jaw.
Then he flashed that brilliant smile for the crowd and went back to his horse.
Sir Alaric followed, silent, though his hand stayed close to the dagger at his belt.
They stood near the start of the lists and talked among the other knights. Clearly having something urgent to discuss.
