My Victorious Knight
Page 4
“No good could come of a tournament this large,” the woman whispered, moving to her children. She smoothed the girl’s brown hair comfortingly. “I told me Albert, me husband, that. And now… now I am worried about him.”
“Where is he?” Elora asked.
“He was in the market selling leather.”
Elora looked at her rescuer. For the first time, she realized he had a sword strapped to his belt. He was a knight! Her breathing slowed slightly. Knights took an oath to defend the innocent. He would take care of them, she knew. He had already protected her. A stray ray of sunshine beamed in through a broken plank on the door, illuminating his glimmering, determined blue eyes.
“I’m going back to find your friend and her husband,” he announced.
Elora’s heart tightened, and the hair on her nape stood up. She reached for his hand, gripping it tightly. She didn’t want him to leave her.
“Wait here,” he instructed, backing to the door.
“Wait!” she cried.
Their entwined hands stretched as she refused to release him.
He returned to her, clasping her hands and staring into her eyes with sincerity. “I can’t leave them out there. I’ll be back for you.” His hand was warm and strong as it surrounded hers. He looked at the peasant woman. “Take care of her.” He bent his head and pressed a kiss to Elora’s knuckles before releasing her and moving toward the door.
Elora’s skin tingled where he had touched her. She wanted to beg him to stay, but Sarah was out there amidst all the fighting men and their savagery. She nodded, trying to convince herself all would be fine.
His lips turned up in a half-smile, and he disappeared out the door.
Her trembling heart surged. How brave! How very chivalrous and courageous he was. It was only a moment later that she realized she did not even know his name.
Chapter Five
Julian dashed down the street toward the main road and the brawl. He was looking for two people. He had caught a glimpse of Sarah earlier and figured she would be frightened and hiding. It could be very dangerous for her if she were caught up in all the fighting. The leather maker should be unhurt, possibly even involved in the brawl, with a load of leather goods.
He stopped at the entrance to the rowdy main road, scanning the area. To his left, a man with a ripped tunic grabbed another male and flung him to the ground. To his right, a different highlander with a long, dark beard tried to grab another about the waist as his victim threw punches at him. Around Julian, thunks sounded as fists slammed into flesh, and incoherent calls echoed. He stepped out of the way as one male pushed another into a building. Julian tongued the cut on his lip, not interested in getting involved in the brawl. He had to find Sarah.
He spotted a pocket of open space and raced across the street, all the while looking for a woman huddled in a corner or pressed against the wall for protection. Right next to him, someone jumped onto a merchant from behind.
It was chaos! A farmer bumped into Julian. He shoved him away and hurried on. When he heard a woman’s shout, he paused to scan the area for the origin. A female with brown hair clung to a man’s back, pounding his head and shoulders angrily with her fists.
“Sarah!” Julian called, unsure if it was her or not.
She didn’t look up, and he hurried closer, skirting a squire who huddled on the ground with his hands over his head. “Sarah!”
She looked up at him, pausing her attack.
The man whose back she was on reached over his head and seized her shoulder. He flipped her off of him and into the dirt of the street. The man lurched to go after her, but Julian grabbed his tunic and shoved him into two brawling men, who then turned their attention to the newcomer.
Julian rushed over to Sarah and bent before her. “Are you hurt?” he asked, holding a hand out to her.
She took his hand just as someone bumped into him. Losing his balance, he stepped over her lest he fall on her. He yanked her to her feet and grabbed her arm, hurriedly leading her through the maze of battles toward the side street. “Are you Sarah?”
“Yes! How did you—”
They sidestepped two fighters locked in an embrace and struggling. “Your friend was worried about you.”
She gasped. “Do you know where she is?”
He guided her quickly down the street. It had previously been empty of fighting men, but the brawl had spread like a disease. To his right, a brute threw punches at a smaller man. To his left, two males clenched each other tightly and struggled. Directly before him, a merchant was kicking another on the ground.
Julian didn’t want her to get hurt. He tried to keep to the sides of the road, near the buildings of mud and wattle to avoid further confrontation. One man was shoved against the building just before them. The man growled and launched himself back into the fray, thankfully paying Julian and Sarah no heed.
Julian pulled Sarah along and stopped before a wooden door to rap hard. “Open.”
The door swung inward, and Julian pulled Sarah into the room. He waited only long enough to see the two women embrace each other before telling the villager woman. “Bar the door. I’ll be back.”
He skirted men enfolded in deadly holds and ran toward the main street. As he moved closer to the center of the brawl, the shouting and hollering became louder. He paused at the intersection, looking this way and that. He didn’t even know what the leather maker looked like. He surmised the leather maker would be carrying an armful of leather goods.
In the center of the street, groups of men fought. One male with long brown hair grabbed another and flung him around. In one area, a group surrounded a farmer who was on the ground. They were laughing as they shoved him and kicked him. Instinctively, Julian jerked forward to help him but halted. His hands curled into fists as he remembered his mission. He had to find the leather maker. It was the least he could do for the kind woman who had given them refuge. He made his way down the street, keeping to the buildings to avoid the fighting.
Julian had been in his share of fights. He wasn’t afraid to become involved when the need arose, but this time he had someone to take care of, someone to keep safe. Her large, frightened blue eyes rose in his mind. At least he had found her friend, Sarah.
“Julian!”
He whirled to see Osmont and two other knights stalking toward him. The old bitterness spread inside of him, tightening his chest. Osmont had always been his father’s favorite. His father’s voice echoed in his mind, “You will never be as good as Osmont.” Julian clenched his teeth.
“How could you possibly have defeated me in the tournament?” Osmont demanded as he approached.
Julian couldn’t help baiting him, the adrenaline from the fight coursing through him. “It was simple. I am good; you are not.”
Osmont sputtered with fury. His fists tightened. “Arrogant…” Osmont launched himself at Julian, swinging his arm.
Julian ducked, avoiding the blow. He would have loved to throw some punches at Osmont. It was something he had dreamt of but now was not the time. “Save this battle for the field of honor.”
Osmont swung again.
Julian backed away but bumped into one of Osmont’s friends who had come up beside him. The man shoved him toward Osmont with a laugh.
Osmont punched Julian hard in the stomach. Pain exploded through Julian, and he doubled over but managed to move to the side, knowing Osmont would continue his assault.
When Osmont threw another punch, Julian blocked the movement with his left arm and instinctively drove his right fist into Osmont’s face, landing against his smug chin with a thunk.
Osmont’s friend, a knight with greasy black hair, grabbed Julian’s arm, but Julian spun away from him, breaking the contact. Osmont’s other friend moved to Julian’s left side, surrounding him.
Julian knew better than to let himself be cornered, but they outnumbered him. He would fight until he couldn’t. His gaze focused darkly on Osmont. He would put all his effort into defe
ating his rival.
“You find all sorts of garbage on the streets,” a bellowing voice interrupted.
Julian swung his gaze toward the sound, all the while keeping Osmont and his friends in his peripheral vision.
The fighters in the brawl parted as a retinue of armor-clad men marched through them, led by an elderly man with gray hair hanging to his shoulders.
It took Julian only a moment to recognize him. His teeth clenched. He lowered his fists slightly but much preferred a fistfight to facing this man.
Osmont straightened suddenly, his fisted hands dropping to his sides. “Lord Luther, how good to see you.”
Julian’s hands shook as he reluctantly dropped them, but he couldn’t get them to relax from trembling fists.
“Let him pass, Sir Osmont,” Luther advised. “Don’t risk the chance of harming yourself. Jousts are more important.”
Osmont hesitated, looking back at Julian. His lip curled beneath his drooping mustache.
“You are right,” Osmont admitted. “As always. A wise man.” He pointed to Julian. “I shall meet you on the field of honor.”
“I look forward to it,” Julian growled.
Osmont motioned to his friends with a jerk of his head, and they backed away.
Julian watched them for a moment before turning to Lord Luther. His lips pressed together in a slight grimace. It had been a long time since Julian had seen him last.
The man had gray hair and small blue eyes. He wore an azure bliaut, the hem stirring up dust as he walked. He placed his hands on his hips. “I should have known you would need protection. You were always weak.”
Still the same as he had always been. Julian clenched his jaw. “Good day, Father.”
Chapter Six
Lord Luther scanned the fighting around them with distaste. A man with a brown tunic bumped one of his men, and the guard shoved the man away from him. “What are you doing in Gracious Hill?” his father demanded.
Julian lifted his chin. “I’m here to win the tourney.”
His father paused for a moment and then burst out laughing, a deep rich thunder.
There had been many times Julian had heard that mocking laughter in his life. He’d thought he was used to it, but it still cut sharply. His jaw tightened.
“Wonderful to see you, Father,” Julian grumbled. He turned down the street and away from his father. Rounding the corner, Julian finally let his surprise and annoyance at seeing his father fall over him. He stood for a moment near the butcher’s shop, tension lining his shoulders, and clenched and unclenched his fists. He had not expected to see his father here and was not prepared for the confrontation.
Suddenly, someone seized his shoulder. He pulled back his fist, ready to fight, but saw it was Baldwin, and dropped it in relief.
Baldwin looked from side to side. “We have to get out of here. This has turned into a major brawl. Lord Yves will no doubt send men to stop it.”
Julian frowned. “We can’t leave. I promised a girl I would be back.”
“What?” Baldwin echoed, confused. Someone screamed, and they both glanced toward the cry.
“I have to see her through this safely. I can’t leave her.” Julian hastened down the road, staying close to the buildings to avoid the fighting. He motioned to Baldwin. “This way.”
With a mumbled curse, Baldwin followed.
Julian maneuvered through the brawling men and down the side street. He paused at the door, and when Baldwin joined him, he knocked. The door opened slightly, and the woman peeked out before opening it wide to allow them entrance.
Julian’s gaze anxiously swept the room. The two children were standing in the corner, the boy’s arm about the little girl. The women were not there. “Where are they?”
The woman tugged at a lock of her brown hair. “My husband returned, and he took them to the citadel.”
Julian scowled. The citadel? They must work there. “I said I would be back.”
“They wanted to express their gratitude, but my husband thought it best that they leave quickly before the fighting got out of control.”
Baldwin nodded. “We should leave, too, Julian.”
He lowered his head in disappointment. He didn’t even know her name. He just knew… she was beautiful. He looked at the villager. “Thank you for your help.” As they exited, Julian scoured the street, hoping he might still see her. But she was gone.
“What’s wrong with you, boy?” Baldwin asked. “Keep your head about you. We need to get out of here before Yves’s men come.”
“My father is here, Baldwin.”
Baldwin frowned and then sighed. “We should have expected him.”
Julian nodded in agreement. Yet, he hadn’t. He hadn’t even considered his father would be here. Nor had he expected to meet a slim girl with sparkling blue eyes. His mind continued to replay the image of her standing near the display of knives. Her intelligent wit echoed in his mind. Her blue eyes shimmering like night stars played over and over in his head. He wanted her to touch his hand gently as she had the handiwork of the blade. When Baldwin stopped at an intersection, Julian sighed, “You should have seen her, Baldwin.”
Baldwin grabbed Julian’s arm and pushed him forward. “You can regale me about her when we are out of the city.”
Elora’s heart was still racing after making it back to the citadel. It had been kind and brave of the leather maker to see them back, but she felt guilty about not waiting for the knight who had saved them. Every moment she thought of him, a grin came to her lips. She remembered the way he gazed at her and the strange excitement that had risen inside of her.
When she and Sarah safely entered her chambers, Elora embraced her. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”
Sarah squeezed her back. “I was worried about you when I couldn’t find you in the market. I was afraid your brother would have me drawn and quartered.”
Elora removed her traveling cloak with trembling hands and passed it to Sarah, who put the cloaks away.
Elora was shaking so badly that she had to pace the room and wring her hands. She couldn’t let Edward see her so disheveled. She tried to calm herself with deep breaths.
“I was worried you were hurt. I was trying to find you when some ruffian grabbed me.” Sarah hmphed. “I bet he’ll never do that again.”
Elora grinned, even though the entire event wasn’t very funny. She was grateful Sarah was safe and unharmed. Her racing heart had slowed to a normal beat again, and just in time. They needed to prepare for the parade. For it, they had chosen her newest gown, a beautiful blue velvet dress with golden leaves embroidered on the long sleeves.
Sarah sat her down and began to plait her messy locks.
Elora stared at the table before her without really seeing the basin of water atop it. She again thought of the knight. “That knight. Did you know him?”
“The one who saved us?”
The thought of the knight saving them, of what he had risked by doing so, sent a wave of awe through her. Her breath caught in her throat. “Aye.”
“Ahhh,” Sarah said slyly, twisting a strand of Elora’s hair. “He was very handsome, was he not?”
A smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she remembered his smiling blue eyes.
“And brave!” Sarah added. “He saw you safe and returned heroically into the fighting for me.”
“And then went back for the leather maker!” Elora placed a hand over her heart and sighed softly. “I hope the knight was not injured. I felt guilty leaving without thanking him.”
She had been disappointed when Martin, the leather maker, had returned before the knight. She couldn’t argue with his logic when he suggested taking them back to the citadel. Still, she had wanted to see her rescuer again.
A hopeful idea came to her, and she twisted around to look at Sarah. “Did you recognize him? Do you know who he was?”
Sarah grinned knowingly, placing the thin veil on Elora’s head. “Nay. But I can find out.”
Sarah tilted her head, studying her. “You were quite taken with him.”
Elora straightened, her cheeks flaming bright red. “I—I wouldn’t say ‘taken’ with him. I just… I would just like to thank him for his bravery.”
“He doesn’t know who you are any more than you know who he is.” Sarah stood back, inspecting Elora’s hair with her hands on her hips. “Mayhap, he is searching for you, too.”
A thrill shot through Elora at the thought, but then she wrinkled her nose and began to shake her head.
“Imagine,” Sarah continued, “a brave, skilled, handsome knight searching the village for you. How romantic!”
“Sarah!” Elora chastised. “Let us simply find him, so I can thank him before you have the two of us married.”
Sarah grinned. “It would be so romantic.”
Elora could think about romantic scenarios in secret all she liked, but she knew they were far from reality and would never happen to her.
The day was beautiful, and the sun shone brightly as if it realized its job was to make the knight’s armor sparkle. The gentle force of the wind blew away the dust the horses kicked up.
Elora made her way to the wooden stands. She arrived to hear the end of Lord Yves’s welcoming proclamation and quickly inched forward between the other noblewomen to stand at the edge of the wooden fence.
Lord Yves’s voice boomed across the open arena and stands. “…A solemn mission for all who gather here, be they great or humble. Nay, it is an oath. A binding task set upon all who attend these festivities…” The sides of the field were crammed full of spectators who stood elbow to elbow and some even closer. The crowd was so massive there was barely any standing room.
Lord Yves’s voice dropped. Silence engulfed the audience, and everyone leaned forward to hear his next words.
“…The thing you must do above all else…”
Elora’s gaze swept over the spectators. Lord Yves was a very good speaker. Every person in the crowd turned to him, listening intently. She grinned, enjoying the excitement permeating the air.