My Victorious Knight

by O'Donnell, Laurel

“It was hard enough seeing through the rain. Controlling the horses was almost impossible,” Edward replied softly.

  “You struck him with your lance twice.”

  Edward’s face fell stoically. “I wanted to win.”

  “You hit him twice in his shoulder. His wounded shoulder. It was retaliation. He was angry.”

  “He should have been angry. No noble knight would have done what I did, hitting his wounded shoulder like that.”

  Elora’s stare moved over her brother’s face, his strong jaw, his piercing gaze. What was he saying? During the joust, she’d known he was aiming for Julian’s shoulder. She had been furious with him, but now… he was injured, and he needed her. “Edward…”

  “It wasn’t his fault, Elora.” He looked away from her, and his lips tightened. “I wanted to win just as badly as he did. I needed to defend my title. Undefeated champion.” He shook his head. “I’ve never seen anyone joust as well as him. I’ve never seen another with the skills he has.”

  “You were scared,” she whispered, trying to justify the indefensible. She stroked his arm to reassure him. Suddenly, her hand stopped as another theory occurred to her. If he would do that to win, had he done other things? “Did you break his lances? Was it you?”

  “No! No. I would never go that far.” He looked at her, a haunted look in his eyes. “But I thought of it. For the first time ever, I had a true challenger. He had beaten Osmont and Mace, as well as others. I wasn’t sure if I could beat him.”

  She scowled, considering his words. She loved Edward, but that didn’t make what he did right. “You should have tried your best. Matched his skill with yours.”

  Edward chuckled humorlessly. “Said like a true warrior.” He stared straight ahead as if reviewing the joust. “Yes. I should have. I should have faced him with honor and with confidence. But when Mace told me he was injured…” He shook his head, blond locks swaying around his face. “It was an easy, sure way to win.”

  She shook her head. “What you did was wrong. But that does not make what Julian did right. He purposely hit your horse with his. He hurt you. He could have killed you.”

  Edward squeezed her hand. “He hurt you. You saw an easy way out, too. You used my injury to put space between you and Julian, to force Julian away.”

  Elora began to shake her head to deny his words.

  Edward tightened his hand until she stopped shaking her head. “Because you knew I would not let you see him. Because you knew you didn’t have a future with him.”

  Tears rose in her eyes, blurring his image. Her mind denied his accusation. She had seen what Julian did. And yet, Edward’s words rang true.

  “He did nothing wrong,” Edward stressed. “The lightning frightened the horses. He was only trying to steady his steed.” He lifted up on his elbows to be closer to her. “Ellie, he didn’t do it on purpose. He never intended to hurt me.”

  Her lower lip trembled. She visualized the joust again in her mind. She heard the rain and the thunder. She saw Julian’s horse stumble, and he jerked the reins to control it. She saw it clearly for the first time. She saw it the way Edward described.

  Julian had not meant to harm Edward. He was trying to get control of his horse.

  More tears filled her eyes, and her throat closed. She had said horrible things to Julian. She had accused him of cheating. She had said he was not honorable. She recalled the look on Julian’s face, his disbelief, his hurt. Her heart broke for him. And still, there was one thing that eased her troubled mind. “At least he achieved his destiny. He’s a champion now.”

  The door quietly opened. Sarah stepped in. “Pardons, m’lord,” she whispered. She glanced at Elora, who stood to greet her. “You both should know Sir Julian forfeited his win. Sir Edward is still the winner of their joust.”

  Elora gasped a hitched breath. Julian had forfeited? Disbelief crawled through her. It was his dream to be an undefeated champion. He had worked hard to achieve that. She shook her head in confusion. “Are you certain?”

  Sarah nodded.

  He would never have forfeited. Elora moved desperately closer to Sarah. “Why would he do that?”

  Sarah stepped toward her, tilting her head to the side in sympathy. “For you. He did it for you.”

  Tears dripped from her eyes, running over her cheeks. “Why? Why would he do that?”

  Sarah clasped Elora’s trembling hands. “He said he didn’t want to win if you couldn’t see him as honorable.”

  Such agonizing guilt crashed down around Elora’s shoulders. She had wrongly convicted him, and she had shattered his most treasured dream. He was the best knight. He always had been. She couldn’t stop the tears streaming over her cheeks. What had she done?

  Chapter Twenty Four

  The next day, Julian carried the last of the bags and loaded them into the wagon. He glanced over the dismantled campsite, scanning the empty area to make sure they had packed everything. Trodden grass marked the spot the tent had been. A small pit sat where their campfire was. Memories rushed back. Baldwin’s frowning stare as he watched him practice. Gilbert’s hunched form as he cleaned the weapons. Elora’s radiant smile as she sat at the campfire.

  Julian stood in lonely silence. He had come with so much hope, so much confidence. And now there was nothing left here. Baldwin had been right. He couldn’t win this tourney with Elora on his mind. He missed Baldwin and his constant nagging about focusing on the joust, practice, and keeping his body in top shape. Yet, even Baldwin could not have stopped him from forfeiting.

  Gilbert led Storm up to him and handed him the reins.

  “Are you sure about this?” Gilbert asked.

  Julian glanced back toward the citadel’s tall towers. It had been the most thrilling time of his life. He would never forget it. He would never forget her.

  He sighed, and his shoulders sagged. He had come so close to having everything he had ever wanted. But it had all slipped through his fingers. As Gilbert moved to the front of the wagon, Julian mounted Storm and said, “I have one more thing to do. I’ll meet you at the gates.”

  He glanced at the citadel, imagining she was looking out the window for him. But he knew she wasn’t. She thought he was a cheat, a disgrace. Worthless. Even so, he didn’t want Edward to place any blame on her.

  He had one last thing to do. “I’ll be back.” He turned Storm and began toward the citadel.

  He wasn’t sure what Edward would do when he confronted him. He wasn’t even certain he wouldn’t end up in the dungeon. But he planned to make sure Elora was blame-free from everything.

  Elora waited anxiously for morning and the opening of the gates. She had paced the entire night. Soon after they swung open, she and Sarah fled the citadel.

  Elora had donned her traveling cloak, but the hood had long since flown back. Racing down the street, she slipped in the road’s mud and went down on one knee. Sarah was beside her, grabbing her arm to help her rise.

  Rising, Elora began running again. Her heart pounded. She had to get to Julian. She had to tell him she was wrong. She had to tell him how very sorry she was. He was all she could think of; all her heart cried out for. She had hurt him. The image of his devastated face played in her mind over and over.

  The sky had finished its barrage of rain and storms. The ground was drenched, puddles dotting the road. The hem of her dress was caked with sludge, and it pulled heavily at her skirt. Her slippers were soaked, her feet cold and wet. She didn’t care. She didn’t care that the hood of the traveling cloak wouldn’t stay on her head. She didn’t care that the folks she passed stared at her as though she were foolish. Perhaps she was.

  She raced through the waterlogged grass, sloshing through puddles. She couldn’t see them as readily as she could on the road. She was almost at his campsite!

  For the entire night, she had gone over what she would say to him. How she would apologize. She knew she could never win back his love. Nothing she said could ever make up for the hurtful words she had
said to him. How could he ever forgive her? But at least he would know he wasn’t worthless. That she didn’t think he was a cheat.

  As she crossed the fields, she saw the spot where he had made camp. Her gaze flitted around the empty area, and she came to a halt.

  Sarah joined her, searching. “Where did he go?”

  The camp was gone, dismantled. Empty. Julian was not there.

  “Oh, no,” Sarah whispered.

  Despondent, Elora glanced at Sarah. She was too late.

  Julian stared at the spiral stairway for a moment, memories flooding his mind. Osmont and their fight. He straightened his back as he took the stairs up to the second floor. Edward was in Elora’s chambers. He remembered where the room was. They had walked through these very halls together. He recalled the soft feel of her hand in his and the scent of roses that followed her.

  As he moved down the hallway toward the door, Julian saw Mace and two other knights standing and talking in hushed tones before the room. He greeted them with nods, his gaze lingering on Mace’s concerned face. “I’m here to speak with Sir Edward.”

  Mace glanced at the others and then opened the door. He said something into the room, paused, and then pushed it wider to allow Julian entry.

  The thick curtain was pulled aside from the window, so sunlight cast beams across the floor to the bed.

  Julian’s gaze quickly and hopefully scanned the room, but Elora was not there. He couldn’t help the disappointment that pulled his entire being down. He had hoped for one more look at her.

  A group of men stood about the bed. He recognized one man: Osmont. Julian took a tentative step forward, half-waiting to be clasped in irons.

  Edward lay in the bed, pillows propped behind him so he could sit up. One of his legs was wrapped and supported upon a rich, red velvet pillow. As Julian approached, Edward turned from the group of men surrounding him to lock eyes with Julian. He lifted his chin. “Out!” he ordered the others.

  They all filed out except for Osmont, who waited with arms crossed at the head of the bed.

  “You too, Osmont,” Edward commanded.

  “Me?” Osmont gawked. “I should stay for you.”

  “No. Sir Julian has come to speak to me. I will do so alone.”

  Osmont clenched his lips and jaw tightly. His dark mustache drooped with disapproval. His hands wrapped into fists, and he stormed to the door. He hesitated for a moment before casting a look of distaste at Julian and pulling the door closed.

  Julian had never truly spoken to Edward. He had always imagined a man, a knight, larger than life. A man undefeated in joust. Now, seeing him lain up in the bed sent a chill of guilt through him. He had practiced what he would say to Edward in his head, but now, words seemed to escape.

  The silence stretched in the room as Edward’s gaze swept Julian from head to toe.

  Julian took a deep breath. “I am here to tell you that Lady Elora is innocent in all of this. I am to blame. I enticed her to see me, even though I knew it was against your will.” Edward’s eyes narrowed, and Julian hurried on, “The blame for her behavior rests with me.”

  Edward was quiet, staring at him.

  Obviously, it wasn’t enough. Julian swallowed. “I forced her to go against your wishes. She said she couldn’t see me, but I manipulated her and—”

  “No one forces Ellie to do what she doesn’t want to.”

  “Be that as it may, I am here to assure you her virtue is intact. She will still be able to marry a worthy man. I—”

  “You forfeited.”

  Julian started. Was that all he was concerned with? Not his sister? He nodded once.

  “Why?”

  The word echoed in the room. Julian was caught off guard by the question. He had no answer for Edward. What could he tell him? That Elora’s opinion of him was all that mattered? That he would do anything to change her mind? He sighed softly. “I thought it was the right thing to do.”

  Edward stared at him, scowling. “Is there another reason you forfeited?”

  Julian tilted his head, confused. “Should there be another reason?” Edward sighed, and Julian took a desperate step forward, wanting him to understand. “I didn’t want to win that way. Not against you. You deserved a complete joust. You deserved to be beaten fairly, not by accident.”

  More silence. Edward was immobile, staring, gauging. “You are everything Elora said you were.”

  Julian bowed his head, saddened as he recalled Elora’s final judgement of him. A cheat. Dishonorable. He deserved her harsh words. Like his father did, she thought him worthless. Perhaps her words would make it easier to leave. Perhaps her words would make it easier to give up his dream. Perhaps her words would make it easier to give her up.

  Still, he couldn’t help but ask, “What did she say?”

  Instead of answering, Edward inquired, “How is your shoulder?”

  Tender. Aching. But nothing compared to his broken heart. He didn’t meet Edward’s eyes. “Sore.”

  “I knew that.”

  Startled by the admission, Julian looked at him. He was still willing to give Edward the benefit of the doubt.

  Edward shook his head and leaned forward. “I’m sorry, Julian. I’m sorry for aiming for your shoulder. If I had it to do over, I would compete more honorably.”

  Edward had aimed for his injured arm on purpose! A champion, an undefeated jouster, had tried to win by aiming for his wounded shoulder. It was difficult to reconcile the man he’d placed on a pedestal and the flawed human who lay before him.

  “It’s hard to be the best,” Edward admitted. His lips were thin, and he was staring at his leg. “Everyone always looking to unhorse you, to challenge you. To defeat you.” He rubbed his propped leg. “I suppose I knew someone would, eventually. There is always someone better.”

  Julian sighed softly. “You defended your title as best you could. I was taught honor was better than winning.”

  Edward winced. “And it is.”

  Julian couldn’t place blame on him. Perhaps Edward had gotten lazy. Perhaps he had gotten complacent. Whatever the reason, Julian had defeated Edward. And that would have to be enough for him. “Perchance one day, we shall meet on the field of honor again.”

  Edward exhaled. “They tell me my jousting days are over.”

  Guilt and disbelief slammed down on Julian’s shoulders as he glanced at Edward’s leg. He’d never wanted to be the cause of another knight’s inability to joust. “Oh, Lord. Edward, I’m so sorry.”

  Edward shook his head. “It’s not your fault. I place no blame on you for this injury. I had it coming for acting disgracefully. I hit your wounded shoulder twice, and yet, you still would not fall.” He looked at him intensely, as if he could see through to Julian’s soul. “You are a worthy adversary. The worthiest opponent I have ever had.”

  The words should have made Julian happy. They should have delighted him as none other could. But they did not. A heavy weight pulled at his heart. “Thank you.”

  “Still, you forfeited the joust. You could have been the champion of the tourney.” Edward tilted his head to look at him more closely. “Do you love her?”

  Shocked by the turn of topics, Julian opened his mouth and then closed it and then opened it to answer.

  “I ask because you never came to me to seek her hand.”

  Julian chuckled humorlessly. “You would never have seen me as a serious contender for her hand. I have no lands, no title, no fortune. I have nothing to offer her.”

  “You have honor.”

  Julian ran his hand through his hair. “That will not keep her warm or put food in her stomach.”

  “No but winning a fortune in the melee might.”

  Julian frowned and looked down. The melee consisted of two opposing teams of knights battling each other to best and then ransom the other. Glory and riches could be acquired by capturing the wealthiest knights. But he’d have to capture a lot of knights for ransom to have enough coin or even a chance… No.
It would never be sufficient. “I’m leaving.”

  Edward scratched his clean-shaven chin. “Before you go, I have a proposition for you.”

  Julian cautiously straightened; his curiosity piqued.

  “Take my place in the melee. Fight on Lord Yves’s team.”

  Julian’s eyebrows rose. He reared back. It would be an honor to take Edward’s place and fight on the baron’s team. Still, he hesitated. If he lost, if another knight captured him, he would lose everything. His armor, sword, possibly even Storm. He had no coin to pay for ransom. He could lose everything… well, everything he had left, which wasn’t a lot. He began to shake his head. It was too risky. “I am honored by your request, but I am a simple knight. I can’t—”

  “I will sponsor you.”

  A bark of laughter escaped Julian’s lips. “Why? Why would you do that?”

  “I’ve seen you fight. I’m impressed by your character. I think you can make a difference for Yves’s team. For my team.” Edward grinned and patted his leg. “And I can’t do it.”

  Words failed Julian. He was too stunned to agree. He was too honored not to. The joust had been his main focus. He had not even considered the melee.

  And still… his mind returned to Elora. He couldn’t shake the heavy disappointment weighing his body down. How could she think he was a cheat? Even now, the echo of her words and the memory of bitterness caused a painful tightening in his throat. How could she declare him dishonorable? If he stayed, she would be all he could think of. Baldwin had been right. He couldn’t win when Elora was all that was important to him.

  “It would be a great honor to take your place.” He sighed softly. He would have said yes. He would have agreed to battle in the melee—he wasn’t afraid, but… he couldn’t take his mind from Elora. “As tempting as your offer is, I cannot in good conscience take it.”

  “Are you certain? It could change your life. If you ransom the right knight, you could come away quite wealthy.”

  He grinned sadly. Wealth. Champion. These were things he desired before he met Elora. “There is only one woman who could change my life.”