A Tournament Knight

by A Tournament Knight (lit)

  With no inflections in her speech, Jacqueline finally spoke in a low voice. "He will pay for this. By God, I will make him pay."

  Feeling a chill creep over her at the sound of her daughter's words, Lady Elizabeth shook her head in denial. "Jacqueline, let it go. There is nothing you can do. No matter what you may plan to do to the earl, William will still be gone from us. It will not bring him back. You must accept this."

  "I know that, mother. But I will still have my revenge."

  "And just how do you expect to do that? To your father, you are dead and buried." Her daughter's attitude was engendering no small amount of worry in her.

  "It is quite simple, mother. I am going to meet father in the lists myself."

  Lady Elizabeth adamantly shook her head once more. "It is not possible. How could you survive going up against a seasoned knight? You have never jousted with a mounted man. Besides, they would never allow a woman to compete."

  "Oh I will compete. From what Beth has said William was still alive when they left Windsor. No one knows of his death as of yet. So I will become William. As for jousting against a seasoned knight, training for the next tournament the earl participates in will be my life now. There is nothing else that matters anymore. The earl killed a part of me when he took William's life. My only reason for living now is making the earl pay for what he has done."

  Both Lady Elizabeth and William's widow found themselves shocked beyond words. Neither had any idea what to say in response to Jacqueline's words. Lady Elizabeth only hoped her daughter was not becoming unbalanced emotionally, suffering from the loss of her twin.

  When Jacqueline received no response from either woman, she turned her back on them and headed back to the hall. There were plans to be made, and there was no time like the present to begin.

  Two days later, William's funeral service was held. Only those who dwelled in the castle were in attendance. Both her mother and Beth had tried to steer her from her course of revenge. She had to do this. Standing at the open grave as William's body was lowered into it firmed her resolve even more.

  The priest said the final words in the service, and those in attendance slowly began to walk away. Soon the three women of the Montacute family were left standing as mourners.

  Lady Elizabeth gave her daughter by marriage a reassuring hug and motioned for her to head back to the keep without her. Jacqueline watched as William's grave was slowly covered with dirt by two of the castle's men-at-arms. She did not look up when her mother came to stand next to her.

  "Is there nothing I can do or say to make you not do this? I fear I will lose my daughter. I have just lost my son. Must I go through this pain again?"

  Meeting Lady Elizabeth's eyes, Jacqueline found them red and puffy from crying. Her own showed no such marks of mourning. She could not, would not let such weakness have reign with her. It would assuredly defeat her.

  "You know my answer to both those questions. I will not be put off. I would save you from the pain you feel now, mother. I cannot think of how my taking William's place might affect you should I fail. Please understand, I will do this."

  Sighing, Lady Elizabeth knew she was wasting her breath with Jacqueline. Her daughter would not be swayed. So that left her with only one course of action. She had to support her offspring in any way she could. She would keep William's death a secret from the mainland, from his father.

  "Fine, Jacqueline. I will bother you no further about this matter. You are no longer a child. I have to respect your decision. Even though it kills me to think what can happen to you. I only ask you do not attempt to go up against your father until you are deemed ready by Sir Guy. He will oversee your training."

  "I will gladly have Sir Guy train me, but I will decide when I am ready."

  Lady Elizabeth's voice was tinged with anger. "If you do not allow Sir Guy to decide, I will stop you any way possible. All it will take is a missive sent to your father informing him of William's death."

  "How could you do that knowing how I feel?"

  "Quite easily, my girl. I will not stand by and let my remaining child knowingly go and commit suicide, because that is what it would be. Now, do I have your word, Jacqueline?"

  Not liking it one bit, Jacqueline allowed her mother this small victory. It would not change anything. She would go and no one would stop her. "You have my word. Sir Guy will have the final say when I go."

  * * * *

  The next day found Jacqueline on the castle's tilting grounds. Once more she donned a man's clothing. Today was her first day of training with Sir Guy, the castle's castellan. He had trained William in the knightly arts. He had even trained Jacqueline in the limited amount she had been allowed to learn.

  Sir Guy was fifty but was built as sturdy as any oak tree. At just slightly over six feet, he was formidable looking even without his armor. He possessed piercing hazel eyes, which did not miss very much. His midnight black hair was slightly peppered with gray, making him look distinguished. Not that Jacqueline would ever tell him. He was also more of a father to William and herself than the earl ever could be. Jacqueline loved Sir Guy. His gruff exterior hid a soft hearted man, one who had taken pity on the fatherless twins and treated them as his own children.

  At this precise moment, he was very much playing the role of father figure, pacing back and forth before Jacqueline, a deep scowl upon his face. He was making her edgy and he well knew it.

  "Stop looking at me like that. You can give me menacing looks all day if you wish, but I am not going to go away."

  Sir Guy stopped his pacing and, clasping his hands behind his back, rocked up and down on his toes. "I am just trying to see if you are as mad as I think you are. Planning to pull this stunt would qualify you as exactly that."

  Jacqueline could not help but roll her eyes at him. "You know I am not mad. You of all people should know what I am capable of."

  "I will give you that. You excel at riding at the rings. But catching a suspended ring on the tip of your lance is nowhere the same as hitting a fully armored and mounted knight."

  "I am not exactly some weak, pathetic female."

  "No, you are not, Jacqueline." Sir Guy's words were spoken with affection. He had been proud of what she had accomplished in the previous training sessions. If she had been born a man, he could have easily completed her training and her when she reached the age of twenty.

  Falling silent once more, Sir Guy studied Jacqueline intently. "Come, I have your armor for you. Some is from what we used in the past and some pieces were William's." Turning on his heels, he headed to the quintain. Under it sat a pile of armor.

  Jacqueline cleared her throat, pushing back her emotions. Raw pain had shot through her with the knowledge she would be using parts of William's armor. Swallowing back the lump in her throat, she ran to catch up to Sir Guy. How could she possibly fail now? She would have something of William with her when she faced her father. Hopefully William would be with her in spirit.

  Chapter Two

  Every bone in his body ached. He felt like there was no part of him not bruised and battered. Sir Terric Aubrey felt older than his six and twenty years. But what else did he expect with the type of life he had chosen? A landless knight, who made his living following and competing in the tournament circuit picked a hard road. At times, a painful one at that.

  Terric released a groan when his squire, Edwin, rubbed his bruised left shoulder. As Edwin began to attack the area in earnest, Terric groaned in protest. "Easy boy. Are you trying to maim me?"

  The squire relented and stepped away from Terric's prone body. They were in Terric's pavilion, the only home both had known for the last three years, the length of time Terric had been on the road.

  "You need to get off the circuit for awhile before you kill yourself. Today was too close for my liking."

  Edwin was correct. Today had been a very close call indeed. During his last run in the list, his competitor's lance had hit him in the helm, missing blinding him by a scant hal
f inch. The mark of the blow was still on his helm, making it easy to see how close the lance had come.

  Standing, Terric stretched his six foot four inch frame. Rolling his left shoulder a few times, he heard it pop and settle back into place. A dislocated shoulder was quite common on the circuit. Terric had had first hand experience on how painful one could be. As a result, his shoulder popped and cracked after each tournament.

  "Do not remind me how close I came to ending my career as a tournament knight. Luck was on my side today."

  Edwin scoffed. "I should say it was more your great skill than luck."

  Terric smiled. "Well thank you, squire. I gladly accept your compliment."

  A wet cloth hit Terric squarely in the face. Edwin laughed. "There will be no more compliments from me. I would not want you to get a big head. We would never be able to get your helm on."

  Wisely, Edwin ducked out of the pavilion after issuing those words, leaving Terric alone. Shaking his head in amusement, Terric could not suppress a chuckle. Edwin was always good for such comments.

  Their relationship was not solely based as a knight and his squire. Edwin was as much his companion as he was squire. At aged eight and ten, Edwin had seen, and done, more than he should have at his young age. But being a child alone in London's streets had a tendency to do that. To that day, Edwin still claimed a guardian angel had been watching over him when he had encountered Terric.

  It could have been an angel who led Terric to him, or he had just happened to be in the right place at the right time. No matter how he had happened to stumble across the badly beaten ten and two year old Edwin, he was thankful he had been the one to be there when the boy needed help.

  When he was dumped in an alleyway behind the alehouse Terric was about to enter, the commotion had drawn his attention. If not found, Edwin would have surely died in the filth of the alley. And Edwin still had no memory of who had beaten him or why.

  Terric rubbed the wet cloth across his chest. He had to make himself presentable for the feasting which would begin shortly.. This could be a hard, lonely life, but the feasting sometimes helped to make up for a few short comings. Particularly the ladies, who would be in attendance.

  A little flirtation with the ones who tried to gain his attention was one of Terric's favorite ways to unwind after a battering in the list. He was not ugly, far from it. And so in knowing what his face did to the ladies, he used it to his advantage.

  His eyes were an unusual color. They were violet. Hair the color of wheat worn shoulder length, a strong chin, straight nose, and sculpted lips, were what drew women to him.

  Edwin took full advantage of Terric's luck with the women. He had no problems finding a woman for himself amongst his master's admirers. The boy was no slouch himself in the looks department with his shaggy dark blonde hair and green eyes.

  Though women flocked to Terric, he did not take up what they were offering, most times. He did not want or need a woman to be a part of his life, not while he was in the circuit. Spending just one night with one was not something he made a habit of. Flirting was more his forte.

  Once dressed in a tight fitting dark blue tunic, which came to mid-thigh in length, and black hose, he pulled on his boots and exited his pavilion. The feast was being held at the castle. This tournament was in Devon, held by a minor lord. To be perfectly honest, Terric could not remember the name of the castle, or the lord's name for that matter. After attending so many tournaments, they tended to blur one into another. Especially smaller tournaments, which category this one fell into.

  Though small it was, Terric had managed to take enough ransoms this day to make it profitable. And that was all that really mattered at the end of the day.

  * * * *

  "Come on girl, give me your hand. Let's give it another go."

  Reaching up, Jacqueline clasped Sir Guy by the hand and allowed him to pull her up onto her feet. Landing flat on your back and not being able to get up, she found to be a humiliating experience. Being encased in full armor, helm and all, she was too weighted down to gain her feet on her own.

  The quintain was proving harder than it looked. After a week's worth of training behind her, Jacqueline was still being knocked off her steed, but she was not going to give up. She was not going to let a damn sandbag get the better of her.

  "Up you go." Sir Guy cupped his hand for Jacqueline to step into so he could help her back into the saddle. "Remember, get your lance aimed for the center of the quintain. Any deviation from that point and the sandbag will get you."

  "Thanks for the reminder, but I have found that out myself already, a number of times." Accepting her lance once more, Jacqueline set it in place, then prepared to run at the quintain one last time before ending the training session.

  Taking a couple of deep breaths to help clear her mind, she focused all her attention on the quintain. Satisfied with her grip on the lance, she shoved her heels into her horse's sides, and barreled toward her target.

  When her lance hit the quintain, Jacqueline braced for the inevitable feel of the sandbag whacking her from behind. It never came. Looking back over her shoulder, she found herself now past it, and miraculously, she was still in her saddle.

  Letting out a loud whoop, she turned her steed back around and headed back to where Sir Guy stood watching her.

  Yanking off her helm, she waited for him to speak. When he was not readily forthcoming, she dismounted and stood before him. "Well, are you at least going to say something?"

  To her complete surprise, he wrapped his arms around her and, holding her in a bear hug, Sir Guy lifted her off her feet. When he set her back down, there was a large grin upon his face.

  "Well done, my girl, well done. I knew you had it in you."

  Basking in the older man's approval, Jacqueline quickly kissed his cheek. "I had a good teacher, don't you know."

  Feeling light of heart, more than she had been feeling for the last few days, she spun on her heels and walked in the direction of the hall. Now that she had managed to best the quintain, her mother could finally stop worrying about her so much.

  Chapter Three

  Having completed six months of intense training, Jacqueline was now ready to test her new found skills. With winter now drawing to a close, the tournament circuit would resume the following month. A smaller tournament would be the ideal opportunity to see how she could handle herself in the list. The only foreseeable problem would be her mother.

  Lady Elizabeth had been supportive of her daughter during her training, but it was not hard to see she did not totally approve either. Jacqueline would have a small battle on her hands. Not so much because her mother did not think she would do well, but that she would be taking the final step in assuming William's identity.

  Much to Lady Elizabeth's chagrin, her daughter had already taken to wearing a man's short tunic and hose all the time. Jacqueline had put aside her gowns when she had started her training, not once donning one since. But she had yet to take the final step, cutting her hair. To participate in a tournament, cutting her hair was what she must do.

  Heading to her mother's solar, she hoped she could try and convince Lady Elizabeth to allow her to go. Sir Guy seemed to think she was ready, though he had not said as much. But

  Jacqueline knew he would stand by her. He had given his word. He could not back out, not when she had mastered the quintain. She could beat it now with every run she made at it.

  Lady Elizabeth's solar was full of bright sunlight, which shone through the large windows running the length of the chamber. The windows overlooked her mother's walled garden. Both Beth and her mother were present in the solar, sewing. Beth sat before a tapestry frame stitching, while her mother worked on a tunic. Clearing her throat, Jacqueline announced her presence to both women.

  Her mother looked up and smiled at her. "Have you come to join us, Jacqueline?"

  Jacqueline shook her head in response. "Nay, mother. You know I prefer the lance to a needle these days." />
  Frowning, her mother sniffed and said, "It did not hurt to ask. I have missed your company these past months."

  Groaning to herself, Jacqueline pushed on. This was not a good sign. Getting her mother to agree to her wishes was not going to go without a fight it would seem. "You know why I have not had the time to sit with you like this."

  Lady Elizabeth sighed. "Aye, I do know. I am reminded of it every day, seeing you dressed like that."

  Jacqueline self-consciously pulled on the hem of her tunic, then abruptly stopped herself. She had nothing to be ashamed of. "Be that as it may, I need to discuss something with you. Something of importance."

  Putting aside the tunic, her mother motioned her to come sit in the empty chair next to her. "Sit, tell me what is on your mind."

  Taking a deep, cleansing breath, Jacqueline decided it was best to get right down to the point, not drag this out any longer than it had to be.

  "The tournament circuit starts soon. I want to attend one of the smaller tournaments, one which the earl will not be at."

  "You mean to observe it only, am I correct?"

  "Nay, mother. I mean to participate. It is time I see how I handle myself in the list."

  Lady Elizabeth quickly glanced over at William's young widow.

  Beth guiltily looked down at her tapestry. "Jacqueline has hinted such to me. That she was planning to do this."

  "And you did not think to mention it to me?"

  "I had no idea she was going to want to go so soon."

  "Do not worry, Beth. I will not hold this against you. You are not responsible for Jacqueline's ideas." Once more focusing her full attention back to her daughter, she spoke again.

  "Jacqueline, I do not think you are ready. You have only been training for six months."

  "Ask Sir Guy. He thinks I am. I think it is you who is not ready, mother."

  Lady Elizabeth gave her daughter a frosty glare. Jacqueline was correct. She was not ready. She was not ready to maybe lose her last child. "Why must you persist in this? It is a mad scheme which will only end badly."