Storm Clouds Rolling In

by Ginny Dye

  “I thought...” Carrie hesitated.

  “Yes?”

  Chiding herself for her childishness, she forced herself to continue. “Well, I thought you might... I mean...” Firmly she brought herself under control. This was ridiculous. He would either accept it or turn it down. Gathering all the dignity she could muster, she curtsied and spoke calmly. “You are riding a Cromwell horse. I thought it only proper that I give you a token from the Cromwell household. I apologize for being remiss and not doing it sooner.”

  Robert smiled. “I would be honored, Miss Cromwell.”

  “May I borrow your knife, sir?”

  “Excuse me?” Robert made no effort to hide his confusion.

  “Surely you carry a knife.”

  “Well - yes - but what need do you have for a knife?”

  “A knife, please?” Carrie’s voice was soft, but determined.

  Robert, obviously mystified, reached behind to pull a small knife from its sheath on his belt.

  “Thank you, sir. I’m afraid I didn’t come prepared for the tournament, so I’m rather limited with what I can give you. I hope this will suffice.” Reaching up, Carrie took hold of a curly lock that had escaped from her bun. Swiftly she cut her hair and handed it to Robert. “I trust you will win, Mr. Borden.”

  Robert, watching her in amazement, slowly reached out to accept the extended token. “Thank you, Miss Cromwell. I will indeed win. You may count on it.” Bowing low, he turned and swung back into the saddle. He smiled at her upturned face and rode away to join the others.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, our first contestant is the Knight of Granville.” The crowd hushed as the determined young man steadied his horse and gripped his sword tightly. With a wave of the flag he was off!

  Carrie watched closely as the young man thundered down the list on his black mare. Leaning slightly forward in the saddle, all of his concentration was settled on the job at hand. He got the first ring! A mighty cheer rang from the crowd. The second ring! And the third ring! With a triumphant whoop he brought his horse down to a trot and returned to the judges stand to relinquish his rings. Before he was even there, the flag dropped and the next contestant was off.

  After the initial clapping had worn down, the crowd begin to melt away toward the refreshment tent. The Tournament would go on for quite a while. Few were willing to watch it in its entirety. They would wait until the last couple of tilts; when the field was narrowed to a handful of determined, talented young men, intent on winning all.

  Carrie edged closer to the finish line where she would be sure to have a good view of the list. She intended to watch the entire competition. She wanted to know how Granite was handling the course and she was curious about the competition. She had always enjoyed the Tournament, but never before had her heart been so engaged.

  Robert was number ten in the initial field of thirty. Carrie watched carefully as the first nine Knights went through the course. Only four of them were able to collect all three rings. Robert was talking quietly to Granite. The well-muscled Thoroughbred knew something was coming; he seemed to be watching the Tournament just as closely as his rider. Granite needed to be ready - but loose - when his time came. Carrie had seen the result of horses strung too tightly.

  “The Knight of Borden”.

  Robert moved forward as his name was called out. Carrie tensed as he gripped Granite’s reins and leaned forward slightly. Out of the corner of her eye he saw the flag flash down. They were off! Granite seemed to float across the ground as he thundered toward the first ring. Robert eyed the circular prize carefully and steadied his arm. The first ring was his! The second and the third both followed quickly.

  Carrie clapped enthusiastically as Robert brought Granite down to a trot and circled around to the judge’s stand. He would be in the second tilt. And he had ridden Granite beautifully. They seemed to fit each other perfectly. Carrie’s belief that the two could win the entire Tournament skyrocketed. She watched, smiling, as Robert rode over to her.

  “This is quite a horse you have here!” His eyes snapped with excitement, making him even more handsome.

  “And you are quite a rider, Knight Borden!” Carrie’s excitement had chased away any reticence, and she smiled up at him radiantly. Suddenly she realized he was staring at her with open admiration. Discomfited, she flushed and looked down.

  “Thank you for your vote of confidence,” Robert replied gravely. He waved casually and rode off to join the rest of the Knights who had won the right to ride in the second tilt.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, we have fifteen young knights who will compete in the second tilt. Remember, the rings have been reduced in size from two inches to an inch and a half.”

  Robert and Granite again claimed three rings - along with eight other riders.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, nine young knights will compete in the third tilt for the one inch rings.”

  Carrie knew Robert’s main competition was Nathan Blackwell. Nathan’s mare, Comet, was a veteran of the tournaments – as was Nathan, who hadn’t been defeated in ten years. Carrie allowed herself a small smile at the thought of dethroning the young knight. She had nothing against him personally; in fact, she had always liked Louisa’s friendly brother. She found Nathan to be quite different from his sister, direct and to the point.

  Once again Robert and Granite were off. Again they captured all three rings, narrowing the field to only five young knights.

  Carrie, excitement bursting in her veins, gave him a brilliant smile as he rode back to join the other four knights for the fourth tilt. The next tilt, with rings only three quarters of an inch in diameter, would require all of his concentration.

  The first two Knights thundered down the tilt. The first succeeded in capturing two rings but was disqualified because his time had been greater than seven seconds. The second had captured only one. Number three, the Knight of Bradenton, had failed to capture even one. Nathan Blackwell was next. Nathan sat astride his horse calmly, awaiting his turn. The Knight of Blackwell knew he was good.

  The flag dropped and Nathan released Comet into a smooth gallop. He missed the first! Carrie leaned forward to watch. Maintaining his composure, Nathan captured the remaining two rings.

  The crowd broke forth into loud cheering. The final tilts of the competition had lured everyone back to the sidelines. Carrie was glad she had staked out her place earlier; from where she stood she had a clear view of the entire tilt. Watching Robert closely she saw him single her out from the crowd. Carrie gave him a wide smile of encouragement, nodding to let him know she believed he could do it. She noted with approval his steadying hand on Granite’s neck. The gray gelding was handling the excitement well – now was no time to let him get tense. Robert would have to capture at least two rings for the Tournament to continue to the final tilt. If he got three rings the competition would be over!

  The flag flashed once more and they were off. Granite moved as smoothly as ever, while Robert’s body was held in readiness. The first ring was his! The second ring remained where it had been. Carrie held her breath as they thundered toward the third, and last ring. It was his!

  The crowd broke into a roar once more. It had been years since there had been such stiff competition for the Knight of Blackwell. All eyes were glued to the list.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, we will give the Knight of Blackwell and the Knight of Borden a five minute break. Then we will resume with the final tilt to determine the winner -- and who will crown the Queen of Love and Beauty tonight!”

  The murmur of the crowd swelled to a muffled roar as wagers were placed on who would win the Tournament. Few Virginia gentlemen could refuse an opportunity for a friendly bet.

  “Your Robert seems to be doing quite well.”

  Carrie turned to look into Louisa’s eyes. She didn't particularly like what she saw but had no intention of inviting a confrontation. “Mr. Borden is not ‘my Robert,’ Louisa. But yes, he is doing quite well. So is Nathan.” She kept her voic
e casual.

  Louisa narrowed her eyes. “Even if your Mr. Borden should win the Tournament, you needn’t think he will crown you the Queen tonight.”

  Carrie’s eyes widened in surprise. “I haven’t given that a thought, Louisa.” In truth - she hadn’t. All her energy was focused on the possibility of Granite winning the Tournament and finally showing his superiority to a Blackwell horse.

  “Well,” sniffed Louisa, her expression making it obvious she didn’t believe what Carrie was saying. “I saw you give Mr. Borden that silly lock of your hair.”

  Carrie reddened as she struggled to control her anger. She had known Louisa too long – she knew exactly what she was thinking. This was her Ball tonight, and Louisa intended it to go the way she wanted. Evidently what she wanted was Robert Borden.

  Louisa broke into Carrie’s thoughts. “I know he took it. Of course, he’s too much of a gentleman not to. But he received my token first.” She paused with a wicked smile. “And really, Carrie, he’ll want someone much more polished in the social graces; someone who could do honor to his family name should he someday choose to take a wife.”

  Carrie’s lips parted in surprise. Was this what growing up was doing for Louisa? “Really, Louisa. I hardly think …” An announcement from the Master of Ceremonies cut off what she thought.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen. The final tilt will now begin.”

  Carrie snapped her lips shut and turned toward the competition. Louisa, flashing a haughty, satisfied look, turned with a swish and moved back in the direction of her friends.

  “I’d say Granite stands a mighty fine chance of winning this thing, beautiful daughter.”

  Carrie, thoughts of Louisa’s nasty comments floating from her mind, turned toward her father with a brilliant smile. “Oh, Father! I’m so glad you came to join me. I believe they can do it. I believe Granite and Robert can win.”

  “I certainly hope so,” her father rejoined dryly, “or I’m out quite a bit of money.”

  Carrie laughed and swung her eyes back to the course just as the flag waved and Granite charged once more down the course. Robert was riding beautifully. Carrie knew how difficult the final tilt was. A half inch ring was already a tiny thing. When it became something you were trying to snag from a charging animal, it seemed to be almost not there.

  Carrie stifled a groan when Robert just missed the first ring. Steadying himself once more he zeroed in on the second ring. He was just feet from the ring when it happened!

  A sudden puff of wind caught a handkerchief being held lightly on the sidelines and blew it directly in front of Granite. Startled by the flying square of white, Granite broke stride and stumbled sideways into the post. The agile Thoroughbred managed to regain his footing but Robert, leaning forward in the saddle to spear the ring, had no chance to regain his balance. The ground rose hard to meet him.

  A hush fell over the crowd as Granite thundered on to the end of the tilt and then slowed and looked around in surprise at the absence of his rider.

  “Robert!” Carrie’s voice was the first to break the shocked silence. She tore away from the crowd and ran to where he was struggling to regain his feet.

  Her father was right behind her. Putting his strong arms under Robert’s, he helped lift him to his feet. “You all right, son? That was a pretty nasty fall you took. Are you sure you don’t want to sit for a while?”

  Robert shook his head and managed a rueful smile. “I’m okay, Mr. Cromwell. Just my pride is a little battered. What happened?”

  Carrie explained quickly, aware of the sympathetic murmurs sweeping the crowd. “What a shame. You could have won! I know you could have!”

  “What do you mean could have?” Robert asked. “Surely such a thing qualifies me for another chance.”

  “It certainly does, young man.” Colonel Benton had walked up while they were talking. “If you feel like riding again, you certainly are entitled to another tilt.”

  “How’s Granite? Did he hurt himself on the post?” Robert asked.

  Someone led Granite up then, and Carrie hurried over to examine him. After several moments she turned to Robert. “He’s fine. He has a little scrape but it doesn’t seem to be bothering him. He’s a little excited, but he’ll calm down.”

  Just then Nathan rode up on Comet. “Say old man, I’m really sorry. That’s a rotten piece of luck. You might have vanquished me.”

  Robert looked up with a grin. “I’d say that is still a distinct possibility, Knight Blackwell. Give it your best shot, Nathan -- I’m going to try and beat it!”

  Nathan laughed, “You’re going to ride again? On this horse?”

  Carrie’s eyes flashed. “Certainly. And he will win!” She was aware other’s shared his feeling that Granite would be too tense after his experience to give Robert a good ride. She knew differently.

  Nathan made no effort to hide his dubious expression. He thought for a moment and then leaned forward to regard Robert. “If you’re so determined to ride, why don’t we share Comet? That way the end will be the result of our spearing skill. I’d hate to take an unfair advantage of you.”

  Robert looked at him in surprise. “That’s quite a generous offer.”

  Carrie held her breath as Robert’s brow creased in consideration. Comet was a fine horse, and she would probably give him as good a ride as she would give Nathan. Granite was still rolling his eyes and moving nervously. She knew Robert wanted to win, but it was important to her that Granite win as well.

  Robert turned to her and asked quietly, “Do you think Granite will he okay?”

  Carrie never hesitated. “He will be fine. He’s gotten you this far. Let him take you all the way.”

  Robert gazed at her for a moment, and then nodded. “I’ll ride Granite, Nathan. Thank you for your quite generous offer, however. Good luck.”

  “Good luck to you too, Borden. You’re going to need it.” Smiling, Nathan turned away and rode to the starting line.

  Carrie put her hand on Robert’s arm. “Talk to him and stroke his left shoulder. He loves it and it always works to calm him down.”

  Robert nodded and leaped back into the saddle. Then, leaning down, he gazed into Carrie’s sparkling emerald eyes. “This one’s for you.”

  Carrie watched as he returned to the starting line. She couldn’t help the flush that rose on her face, or the thrill his words had given her, but now was not the time to analyze her feelings.

  With a flash of the flag, Nathan was off! Thundering down the tilt, he missed the first one. He missed the second! And he grazed - but missed - the third! Shaking his head, he turned at the end of the tilt and rode back to the starting line.

  Robert moved Granite toward the line. The big gelding had responded beautifully to Carrie’s remedy – Granite was relaxed and ready. The crowd applauded as they approached the line and then fell silent.

  The flag flashed, and he was off. Granite was steady as they flew toward the first ring. Missed. Carrie could almost feel Granite tense as they approached the second ring. Leaning forward, Robert focused on the ring. At the last second, Granite shifted and veered just slightly. Carrie groaned as Robert focused on the last ring. She clasped her hands tightly, all her wishing directed toward the pair, then groaned again when they missed it. Releasing her breath in a sigh of disappointment, she prepared for another tilt but suddenly she realized the crowd was cheering wildly! Puzzled, Carrie looked around.

  “... so the victory goes to the Knight of Borden -- by one ring!”

  Carrie’s eyes flashed to Robert and Granite. Robert held the sword up to his face, seemingly as surprised as she was. Suddenly she understood. She had been so intent on Granite’s misstep that she had missed seeing the ring slide on to Robert’s sword. He obviously had not realized it until just now either.

  Grinning, Robert held up his trophy, and then leaned down to give Granite a big hug. “You did it, old man. I don’t know how -- but you did it!” Granite swung his head proudly as Robert guided him tow
ard the platform.

  Carrie was there waiting. “I knew the two of you could do it. Congratulations!”

  Robert grinned. “Thanks, but you have only Granite to congratulate.”

  “Oh, Mr. Borden, you were quite the chivalrous knight out there. I was so proud it was my token you were carrying close to your heart!”

  Carrie stepped aside as Louisa swept passed her to gaze up at Robert.

  “Thank you, Miss Blackwell. Most of the credit goes to Granite, however. He is quite a horse!”

  “Yes, I’m sure he is,” she responded dismissively.

  “All knights move forward to the judging platform, please, for the awards.” Colonel Benton’s voice boomed out over the excited chatter of the crowd.

  Robert nodded pleasantly. “I must be going, ma’am.”

  Louisa allowed a pretty pout to form on her well-shaped lips. “If you must. I’ll be looking forward to the ball tonight, kind knight.”

  Robert looked after her thoughtfully as she swept away.

  Carrie turned away into the crowd. She had gotten the victory she wanted. She must be content with that.

  SEVEN

  Rose moved gracefully down the dirt road toward the slave quarters, whistling quietly to herself as she walked. Sunday nights were her favorite time of the week. After six long days of being under the watchful eye of Master and Mistress Cromwell, it was good to have a free night. Gazing around, she took a deep breath. The sun had just started to dip behind the towering oaks lining the road she now walked on. The crystal clear air seemed to shimmer with the golden glow it was leaving in its wake. The sky, still a brilliant blue, was beginning to take on the purplish hues of dusk. The afternoon swirled around her with all its delicious freshness as she strode the last few yards to her Mama’s house.

  “Hello, Mama.” Rose smiled as she moved forward to plant a soft kiss on Sarah’s wrinkled, leathery skin. She peered into her eyes, then, satisfied with what she saw there, stepped back. She was always afraid of what she would find. Her Mama was old. At fifty, she had already lived far beyond the average life span of a slave. Rose didn’t know what she would do when her Mama went home “ta be wid de Lawd,” as Sarah put it. Her Mama was her rock.