The knights remained in the square, awaiting their squires, who had also dismounted and were now leading their coursers to them. Thus, they were then ready for the tilt.
After much discussion that morning, Terric had convinced Jacqueline not to compete in this day's event. His reasoning behind it was that her father would not be participating so why risk injury-an injury that could prevent her from joining in the jousting the following day? Reluctantly, she had agreed.
Now that the knights were ready to begin, Terric, Jacqueline, Beth and Edwin slowly made their way over to the bleachers which had been erected specifically for the tournament. Since they were not the only spectators headed in that direction, it took much pushing and elbowing, mostly on Edwin's part, to obtain prime seating closest to the list.
As each knight thundered down the list to meet his opponents with a resounding crash, Terric pointed out each weakness they had to Jacqueline. She had to admit there was an advantage in just watching after all. With Terric's help, she would be better prepared to face her adversaries on the morrow.
Just like the evening before, Jacqueline could feel eyes watching her now that the competition had begun. It gave her an eerie feeling, being watched so intently. It felt much like someone was physically touching her. Casually as possible, she searched the bleachers, hoping to see who it was who watched her so.
When her eyes fell on the part of the bleachers where the king and queen sat, she found her father sitting very close to the royal couple. It was he who stared at her.
This time, the expression upon his face made her quickly jerk back around. His face was full of malice. Almost as if he hated her. Almost as if he knew it was she, not William sitting watching the tilting.
It was not hard to notice how Jacqueline's demeanor had changed from sitting enjoying the competition to sitting ramrod stiff. She seemed ready to run at any noise. Terric began to feel uneasy. What was causing her to be so edgy? He could not readily see.
Leaning closer to her, he whispered, "What is wrong? You are so tense I could bounce a pebble off you."
Speaking from the side of her mouth, Jacqueline replied, "My father. He is sitting near the king." When Terric moved to turn and look back at the earl, she kicked his ankle. "Do not look at him. He is watching me."
Reaching down to rub his abused ankle, he did as she ordered. "All right, I will not turn to look at him. You could have found a less painful way to get my attention you know."
The crowd roared as another pair of knights rushed toward each other. Using the noise to her advantage, Jacqueline spoke more loudly. "You will get over it. I have bigger problems than worrying about hurting your feelings. For some reason I have earned my father's ire. He does not look at all pleased with me."
"Then I suggest when the tilting is through, you return to your pavilion. Both you and Beth."
"I agree. It will not be much longer. The day already grows late."
She was right, Terric realized. Once it became too dark to see, the tilting would cease.
The next hour stretched Jacqueline's nerves tighter and tighter. When at last darkness fell and the tilting was drawn to a close, she was up on her feet leading Beth away. She knew there was to be another feast this night, at the bishop of London's palace near St. Paul's church. But she felt it prudent not to attend. Her father would definitely be present. The king and queen were lodged at the bishop's palace, and he would not want to miss any opportunity to gain their favor.
* * * *
Standing at the entrance to her pavilion, Jacqueline looked up at the bright, twinkling stars studding the night sky above. She took a deep breath then sighed. Her nerves were getting the better of her. On the morrow, she could very well be meeting her father in the list, but sleep was the furthest thing from her mind.
Glancing behind her, Jacqueline could see Beth sleeping peacefully on her cot. At least one of them would be well rested.
Sighing again, she pulled the pavilion's flap closed once more. There was no help for it, she might as well accept that sleep would not come easily for her. And since she was going to be up half the night, she only wished she could be spending it with Terric.
He had gone to the feast at the Bishop's palace. He had offered to stay with her and Beth, but she could not begrudge him that. He so enjoyed them. There was really no reason for him to be absent from it.
Crawling back onto her cot, she decided to try and sleep once again.
* * * *
The hall at the Bishop's place was packed full of people. Terric barely had enough room to eat his meal comfortably. As if he needed a reminder of the cramped conditions, the person next to him elbowed him in the ribs.
Rubbing the area that took the hit, Terric turned his attention to the upper table. Jacqueline's mother and father were numbered among the exalted company who sat there. The earl, as was his want, was trying to ingratiate himself to the king. Lady Elizabeth, taking advantage of her husband's inattention, seemed to be more relaxed. She even conversed with the young queen from time to time.
After all had eaten their fill, the food was cleared away and the dancing began.
It was during that time that Lady Elizabeth discreetly caught his attention with a slight nod of her head. She then stepped out of the hall. Figuring she wished him to follow her, Terric waited a few minutes then made his own way from the hall, as well.
She stood just outside the doors waiting for him. "I do not have much time. The earl is ever watchful of me. Why, I have no idea."
Terric took hold of Lady Elizabeth's elbow and led her farther away from the hall doors. "How have you been treated?"
Seeing the younger man's concern written upon his face, she casually waved it away. "With all the courtesy due me. My husband would never mistreat me in that way, most especially here. He would not want his name besmirched. Enough about me. How are they?"
Terric knew who she referred to. "They are both fine." Quickly making sure no one was nearby, he then continued, "Jacqueline is a bit nervous, which is to be expected."
"Aye, it is. I must return before the earl misses me and comes looking. Just promise to watch out for her on the morrow. I will be in the stands."
Bowing, Terric then nodded. "I will."
"I wish you luck in the tournament as well, Sir Terric." Lady Elizabeth, now satisfied that her daughter would be well looked after in her absence, returned to the hall.
* * * *
"You missed a splendid feast last night, Jacqueline. You and Beth would have enjoyed it."
"It seems as if you enjoyed yourself anyway."
Terric was lounging in one of her camp chairs, lazily sipping wine from a goblet. Even though he tried to hide the smile he wore by holding the rim of the goblet against his lips, Jacqueline could still see the mirth lurking in his violet eyes. She scowled back at him.
Seeing the look she gave him, he said, "Are you worried I met another woman to while away my night?"
"Should I be?"
"Nay, I was true to you. But that did not stop them from seeking my attention. Poor Edwin had to sacrifice himself by offering his meager services."
Jacqueline laughed. "I am sure he was groveling at their feet more like."
"That is better, I made you laugh. Even if it was at poor Edwin's expense."
"Aye, you did. Now tell me what else happened at the feast. Besides your being swarmed by almost every female who attended."
"Fine, I will tell you, since you insist. During the feast they announced the winners of the tilting. The French count, Count de Saint Pol, was named the best knight of the tournament. The Earl of Huntingdon, for the tenants. There was a last minute arrival, as well."
"Who?"
"Count d'Ostrevant, William de Hainault, King Richard's cousin. He also brought a large group of knights and squires with him. So there will be more competitors in today's tilting."
"I have no interest in the count. My main concern is my father."
Sitting up straighter
, Terric asked, "Did you submit your challenge to him?"
Sighing, Jacqueline nodded. "I did. I have yet to hear if he has accepted it or not."
Then as if on cue, scratching, coming from the other side of the pavilion flap, could be heard. Opening it, Jacqueline found her father's squire standing there.
Sketching a quick bow in her direction, he passed her the missive he held and then left. Her hand shook as she broke her father's seal and read what was written on the parchment.
Noticing how her hands were shaking, Terric came to stand behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "What does it say?"
She had to clear her throat before she could answer him. If she had not, her voice would have come out in a croak. "He has accepted my challenge."
"Congratulations, you now will be able to accomplish what you have worked so hard for."
Jacqueline nodded, unable to force a word past her lips. Terric was right. She had finally gotten what she had striven so hard for. But instead of feeling elated, an overwhelming sense of sadness washed over her. The longer she looked at her father's missive the more intense the feeling became. Soon the words began to blur. When a tear fell on the parchment, smearing the ink, she could no longer hold back her sorrow.
As her gut wrenching sobs began, Terric turned her so she faced him, then he wrapped her tightly in his embrace. Each sob wracked her body, causing him to feel it equally through his own. He knew she had not grieved over the loss of her brother before. Holding her as close as he could, he waited for her to get her emotions back under control. She had bottled up her sorrow inside her for far too long.
Gradually, Jacqueline's sobs eased. She hiccupped a few times and then fell silent. Terric loosened his embrace and, placing a hand under her chin, he tilted her head up. Her turquoise eyes were red and swollen from crying, but she seemed more at peace. He brushed a gentle kiss upon her lips.
"Do you feel better?"
She nodded and said hoarsely, "Aye."
"Now you can face your father with a clear mind."
Breaking his embrace, she stepped back. She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her tunic. He was correct. Now having released the pent up sorrow inside herself, she felt remarkably calm within.
Pulling herself up straighter, she said, "I am ready to go up against the earl now. Nothing will stop me."
* * * *
That afternoon the tournament truly began. King Richard entered Smithfield accompanied by dukes, lords, and knights. The king was to be the Chief of the Tenants of the list. Count d'Ostrevant arrived next, along with a large company of knights and squires, fully armed for the tilting. Count de Saint Pol, accompanied by the knights from France, followed.
Sitting in her pavilion, waiting for her turn in the list, Jacqueline could hear the roar of the crowd. They equally cheered or booed, depending on which opponent they favored. There also was no mistaking the sound of a knight being unhorsed. The resulting crash of armor impacting with solid ground was resounding.
Surprisingly, she still retained the calmness she had gained earlier. Even when Edwin came to help finish arming her, she felt no nervousness, no second thoughts. When the squire led her to the list, she felt as if she was moving in a dream world, not the reality she knew. The people around her seemed to be moving in slow motion, as if they were submerged in a heavy substance, which limited their movements. Even their voices sounded muffled to her.
Once she arrived at the list, the roar of the crowd fell away to nothingness. Her whole being focused on the knight at the opposite end. He held a shield, which bore the same coat of arms hers depicted, the Montacute coat of arms.
Grasping the lance Edwin held out to her, Jacqueline placed it at the ready. Knowing what was to come, her steed stamped impatiently. The signal given, she set her courser into motion. Before she let her full attention be taken over by what she was doing, she silently said to herself, for William. I do this for you.
Her steed reached a full gallop and she flew down the list, just as her father did. Bracing herself, she hit the earl's shield with her lance. It splintered into a thousand pieces. Her father's lance hit her shield with enough force to jar her almost out of her saddle, but tenaciously she held on. His lance also shattered on impact.
The second pass, Jacqueline's lance only skidded across the earl's shield giving him the point. His lance hit her shield dead center, once again shattering.
Returning to her end of the list, she accepted a new lance from Edwin and prepared for the final run. Her father was good, very good. After the two previous passes, she came to the conclusion she would not be able to unhorse him. She would be proving herself by just trying to keep her seat with each run.
Waiting for the signal, she looked down the list at her father. She could not see anything of his face with his helm on, but he must have noticed she was watching him. He tipped his lance down toward the ground in a salute. Jacqueline returned it in kind.
Once the signal was given for the final pass, both steeds barreled down the list at top speed. They met with a crash. Jacqueline felt the impact through her whole body. With both lances shattered, it marked the end of the jousting between herself and her father.
Turning her steed back around for the last time, she passed the earl as he headed back to his squire.
A moment before he passed by her, he stopped. "Well done, William. I see your skill has improved since we last met in the list."
Making her voice go as deep as she could make it, Jacqueline replied, "Thank you, father. I have been training for this day."
"I must say, your ability is better than I expected. We will speak later, William." Kicking his heels into his steed's flanks he then moved on his way, leaving her to continue back to the waiting Edwin.
Beth and Terric were both at her pavilion, waiting for her return. When she stepped through the entrance, they enthusiastically greeted her. Beth welcomed her first.
"Oh, Jacqueline, you were spectacular! William would have been so proud of you." Beth seemed to be crying and smiling both at the same time.
Almost frantically, Jacqueline unlaced and then ripped off her helm. She took in great gulps of air into her lungs when she was free of it. Looking at Terric and Beth she said, "He knows."
"Who knows?" It was Terric who spoke.
"My father."
Beth gasped. "How could he know?"
Wiping the sweat from her brown, Jacqueline shook her head. "I know not. All I do know for certain is that he has seen through me."
Terric pulled her closer, then he began to unbuckle her armor. "What makes you think he knows? Both you and Beth have been careful not to be too close to your father."
She could still feel the chill which had run up her back when the earl had spoken to her. "He talked to me after the final run. He said I surprised him."
"Jacqueline, that does not mean he knows. He could have just been surprised by your skill. Nothing more."
She shook her head once more in denial. "Nay, Terric, you are wrong. He knows. He also said we would speak again later. Nothing good can come of that."
Having divested Jacqueline of her armor as they spoke, Terric rubbed her back reassuringly. "Do not fret so. I am sure it is nothing. Who knows, he may not even send for you."
Letting herself lean back against Terric's comforting warmth, she felt a shudder run through her. "I wish I could be so positive, but I cannot. The earl will not so easily forget. He knows."
* * * *
The earl roughly shoved his helm into his young squire's hands. He then stepped into the shaded confines of his pavilion. After being divested of his armor, he impatiently waved his squire away.
Left alone, he picked up the goblet of wine placed on the table for him to quench his thirst.
Sitting down in one of the camp chairs, the earl slowly sipped his drink. His brows furrowed in irritation as he replayed his meeting with his son in the list. It seemed William's skill had improved vastly. But what bothered him the most w
as how quickly his son had recovered from his injury. The intervening months since their last meeting, William should have spent healing. Not improving his skill in handling a lance. William's armor seemed to be a smaller fit, as well, though that could be easily explained. Being injured, William could have lost some weight.
He had thought of another explanation, as well, for all the changes in William. But he found it too ludicrous to give it credence. The girl was dead and buried. Besides, no female would dare what he was thinking.
When his wife entered the pavilion, the earl broke off his musings about his son. Now would be the perfect opportunity to have his wife answer a few pointed questions in regards to William.
Motioning for his wife to sit on the other camp chair across from him, the earl stared intently at her. Under his close scrutiny, she eventually lowered her head to look at her clasped hands on her lap. The earl smiled. He did enjoy seeing her cowed.
"Tell me about William. Did he recover from his injury without any complications?"
Keeping her eyes downcast, Lady Elizabeth squeezed her hands together so tightly her knuckles turned white. "Nay, there were no problems. Though it was months before he regained his strength fully."
The earl nodded. "I noticed he has bettered his skill in the list."
"William has trained hard for this day." she replied dryly.
"Raise your head when you speak to me, woman." the earl snapped. "Now, why would our son train so hard, especially after receiving a grievous injury, just to meet me here in the list?"
Biting back a caustic remark, Lady Elizabeth lifted her head to look at her husband. Oh how she would love to give him the set down he deserved. Instead, she answered his query. "He only wished to please you. William wanted you to be proud of him. So when he recovered, he dedicated himself to improve his abilities."
Not wanting to pursue the topic any further, the earl stood. It was obvious his wife would only say what she thought he would want to hear. "You may leave me now."
A Tournament Knight Page 10