The next pair of knights entered the field and mounted their chargers, and once more one emerged victorious. Over and over again knights charged down the field, and over and over one was knocked from the tournament while one progressed.
“How many knights are there?” Anna asked.
“It depends on the size of the prize. The big tournaments are usually held in summer, but this is a smaller tournament, so the first round should be almost done.”
As he was speaking a loud cry went up from the crowd, and Anna turned to see the next two knights enter the field. One of the knights, like those who had gone before, entered with his helmet off, his dented and scratched armor glowing dully in the winter sun, but the head of the second knight was covered with his helmet, the visor pulled down. As strange as that was, it was his armor that immediately drew attention, however, as it was as black as night from head to toe.
“Who’s that?” asked Anna.
“I have no idea,” Max replied. “I have never seen him before.” He turned and whispered to his neighbor, then turned back to Anna.
“No-one has been able to learn his identity. It seems he entered the Christmastide tournament, which he won, and has won every tournament since. People are calling him the Black Knight.”
“No-one has seen his face?”
“Apparently not.”
Anna watched as the two knights faced each other. The flag was lowered and the knights charged. As unfamiliar as Anna was with jousting, it seemed clear from the start that the Black Knight was going to win the round. Despite the heaviness of the armor, he moved effortlessly, and with a speed that defied belief. His back remained straight and tall, and in his posture there was no hint of tension. His lance hit the other knight square in the chest, knocking him from his horse, and he then leapt from his own mount with an ease that seemed impossible given the armor he wore. He gave a low bow to the duke and his daughter, then turned and exited the field as a cheer went up from the crowd.
The Black Knight won each of his rounds with the same graceful ease as the first. Each time he came onto the field, Anna held her breath, releasing it when he unseated yet another opponent. She joined in the cries of the crowd, ignoring the looks of amusement Max cast her way.
“Enjoying your first taste of blood sport, are you?” he said with a grin.
“Max! It’s not a blood sport! No-one has died!”
“Not yet,” he said.
The light was beginning to fade when the final two knights still remaining entered the field, one at a time. The first knight was an experienced soldier, who had fought many infidels in the Holy Lands, earning glory and honor for himself and his family. A shout went up from the crowd as he moved to the platform, bowing low to the duke and his daughter. The duke rose, moving to the railing to speak to the knight. He nodded and stepped back as Lady Isobel waved and blew him a kiss.
“What did the duke say?” Anna asked Max.
“The gist of it was that if he didn’t unseat the Black Knight, he would need to find another patron.”
Anna turned to Max with a look of horror. “That’s dreadful.”
Max shrugged. “That is the nature of the game, Anna.” Another shout arose from the crowd, and Anna turned to see the Black Knight enter the field. Like the other knight, he strode over to the platform, but it seemed to Anna that his bow was shallow, lacking proper respect for the duke. This time the duke remained seated, but Lady Isobel rose to her feet and moved over to the railing. She waved her handkerchief above her head; then crumpling it in her hand, she threw it at the Black Knight. Behind her, the duke glared at her back.
Max leaned towards Anna, his lips close to her ear.
“What are the chances she will be sent to an invalid relative in the country tonight?” he said.
Anna turned and smiled at him, her eyes sparkling. “I think she should pack her chest as soon as she gets home.”
The charge was over almost as soon as it started, the Black Knight flowing down the course as though riding the wind rather than a horse. He unseated his opponent in one quick move, so fast Anna did not even see the lance move forward, and then it was over. The Black Knight once more walked over to the platform as Lady Isobel rose to her feet and blew the champion kisses. The duke stared at the knight for a long moment before also rising to his feet and coming to stand next to his daughter.
“Well done, Sir Knight,” he said. “You have bested my champion and earned another prize. But before I hand over the purse, you need to reveal your identity.”
“No.”
The crowd gasped at the single word.
“I insist,” said the duke.
“No.”
“Then you will forfeit the prize.”
“Very well. But be very sure you are willing to accept the consequences of that choice.”
“What consequences?” Anna whispered to Max. Max turned to his neighbor, then a moment later he whispered in her ear.
“The last sponsor was killed two days after denying the Black Knight his prize.”
“Killed?” Anna turned to meet Max’s gaze. “How?”
“By a dragon.” Max’s voice was grim as he returned his gaze to the knight. The Black Knight was still before the platform, but his gaze, hidden by the visor, was roving over the crowds. It stopped when it reached Max, then moved slowly to rest on Anna. Even though she could not see the knight’s eyes, she knew with complete certainty that the knight was looking at her. She felt Max glance down at her, then back at the knight, and sensed him stiffen beside her. The knight faced the platform once more, but in the instant before he turned, Anna saw a glint of light behind the visor.
“I refuse to be cowed by the likes of you,” said the duke. “And let all here know that if I die before the week is out, by whatever means, it will have been at the hands of this so-called Black Knight who is too cowardly to show his face.”
The Black Knight stared at the duke, then nodded.
“Very well.” He turned and walked down the field, the crowd suddenly silent as it watched. He was a few feet away from the competitors’ tent when the duke signaled with his hand, and within moments the knight was surrounded by a dozen guards. Anna heard Max groan.
“What is it?”
“This will not turn out well.” He pulled her to her feet. “Come, we need to find Aaron.”
“Aaron? Why?”
“Because,” Max said, holding her hand as he moved between the seats, “that is no knight.”
“No knight? You mean he’s a dragon?”
“Yes.”
“But those guards –”
“Are as good as dead.”
Chapter 29
“It must be Jack,” Aaron said, pacing the hall floor as Keira watched. Max had arrived just a few moments before, pulling along a breathless Anna.
“I agree,” Max replied. “But why is he doing this?”
“I don’t know.” Aaron sounded frustrated. “It is one thing to challenge me for Mastership, but another to target the city.”
“Maybe he’s just doing it for fun,” Anna said. “Something to pass the time until you arrive.” Three sets of eyes turned to stare at her.
“It’s possible, I suppose,” Aaron said slowly. He looked at Max. “Our hands are tied until we can discover where Jack is hiding. Contact everyone and let them know I will be waiting for them at Drake Manor at midnight.”
“Yes, Master.”
“When you are done, I need you to return here, Max,” Aaron continued. Max opened his mouth, then closed it as his gaze dropped to the ground. He remained silent for a long moment, then slowly lifted his eyes to Aaron’s once more.
“Yes, Master.”
“I cannot leave Keira and Anna unprotected, Max. Apart from Favian and Owain, there is no-one I trust more with this task. I need you here, but I will not leave you uninformed.”
Max nodded. “I will obey you in whatever task you give me, Aaron. You can trust me, and I will not fail you.”<
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Aaron nodded and clamped his hand on Max’s shoulder. “Thank you, Max.” He turned to Keira. “Come along, my sweet. We need to get ready for an evening with the prince.”
The palace in the evening looked completely different from the daytime. The walk from the river to the courtyard was lined with long rush torches, staked into the ground and gleaming against the stone walls of the palace. Keira couldn’t help stopping to stare as she climbed out of the ferry.
“It looks so magical,” Keira said, looking at the wavering lights.
“Nothing magical about being at court,” Aaron retorted dryly. He turned to face Keira. “Those women in there, they are nothing like you. Don’t allow them to intimidate you.”
Once inside the courtyard, Aaron led Keira towards a different entrance from the one he had taken that morning.
“We are going to the prince’s private apartments,” he said in response to her look of enquiry. The doorway led into a narrow passage with carved stone stairs spiraling upward at the end. There was no light at the end of the passage, but Aaron led her unerringly up the stairs.
“How do you know the back passages so well?” she asked. He glanced down at her, before pulling her hand through his arm and heading down the next passage.
“I spent a lot of time at the palace once,” he said. Keira was about to enquire further when Aaron stopped outside a set of closed double doors where liveried guardsmen stood on either side. At their approach, they stepped forward and held out their lances, crossing the doors with an X.
“Sorry, Sire, you cannot enter.”
“We are here at the invitation of the prince,” Aaron said. The two men looked at each other, then pulled their lances back to their sides.
“Your name?”
“Aaron Drake.”
“Wait here, Sire,” one of the men said, before slipping through one of the doors. He returned a few moments later and nodded to the other guard, pulling open the door and gesturing for Aaron and Keira to enter.
They passed through into a narrow anteroom. Two footmen stepped out from their places next to the door.
“Your cloak, My Lady,” said one, holding out his hand. Keira handed him her cloak, then nervously smoothed down her gown. Made of dark blue silk, it was cut close to her figure, while a white linen chemise, lined with lace, peeked out from beneath the neckline. At her hips she wore a jewel-studded belt, and her hair had been braided on either side of her head and pinned to the sides of her head in the latest fashion.
“You look beautiful,” Aaron assured her. His eyes held hers for a moment, then he turned towards the door being opened by the footmen. He extended his hand towards her, and she lightly laid her own upon it, turning towards the entrance as their names were announced.
“Master Drake and Lady Drake.”
The room they stepped into was large and ornately furnished. Tapestries in bright hues covered every wall and thick rugs covered the stone floor. Candles lit every corner, while a huge chandelier hung from the ceiling blazing with dozens more. Benches and stools with richly embroidered cushions were neatly placed along the walls, while crowded throughout people were chattering and laughing.
“Aaron!” The prince’s voice rang out over the crowd. “And my Lady Drake. Welcome. Welcome.”
Keira turned to see the prince making his way towards them. He wore a courtepy, or short doublet, of dark green that was so short it hung only a few inches below his waist, while his breeches of bright crimson were so tight, Keira felt herself blushing. On his feet he wore shoes of the latest fashion, with points so long they were tied back in a circle. As he drew close, he was joined by a young woman who looked Aaron up and down in frank admiration.
“Aaron Drake,” said the woman. “Well, well. Back in town I see. Does Elise know?” At the mention of the name, Keira glanced at Aaron. She could see his mouth tighten slightly, but he returned the woman’s look steadily.
“Your Highness,” Aaron said with a shallow bow, “allow me to introduce my wife, Lady Keira.” The woman turned an appraising look on Keira as she dropped into a curtsey.
“Your Highness,” Keira murmured. Aaron had told her that Princess Matilda would be in attendance, but she still felt a little intimidated by such an important personage.
“Pretty young thing, Aaron,” the princess said. She looked to be about the same age as Keira, or maybe a year or two older. She wore a long gown of crimson, the same color as the prince’s breeches, while over it she wore, like the prince, a hip-length courtepy of dark green, trimmed in white fur. Her braided hair was pulled over her head and covered in gold gauze, studded with jewels. Keira glanced down at her own gown, suddenly feeling very plain, but she lifted her chin and looked at the princess as Aaron’s hand rested lightly on her back.
“She is indeed very beautiful, my lady,” Aaron said. “I must be the happiest man in the kingdom.” Keira could feel the heat from his hand spreading through her back as Aaron held the gaze of the woman in front of him. She glanced at Keira, then nodded slowly as the prince clasped Aaron by the other arm.
“Come, Aaron, everyone is abuzz with the tournament. You heard what happened, did you not?”
“I heard that the duke refused to pay the Black Knight when he refused to reveal his identity.”
“Farrand tried to arrest him but was unsuccessful. The Black Knight got away, but not before killing three of his men.”
“How did a single man overcome three trained guards?”
“That is a mystery to which we don’t have an answer. The men who survived said that when they tried to grab the knight, they were burned by his armor, but of course that is impossible. The man himself could not have survived within armor that hot.”
As the prince led Aaron away, he shot a glance at Keira, his eyes meeting hers. There was no doubting what the man was, even if they couldn’t say for certain that it was Jack wearing that armor. Keira was still looking at Aaron when she felt a hand on her arm.
“Come Keira,” said the princess, “let’s join the other ladies and leave the gentlemen to their tales of jousting and Black Knights.” She led Keira over to a group of women who were standing near the fire watching her curiously.
“Ladies,” Princess Matilda said, “allow me to introduce Keira Drake.” She turned to face Keira, gesturing towards each woman. “Lady Elizabeth, Lady Joan, and Lady Blanche.” Keira resisted the urge to look down as the women continued to stare at her.
“Keira Drake,” Joan finally said. “We heard that Aaron had finally got himself attached, but I must admit, you are nothing like I expected.”
“Yes,” Blanche added. “So different from Elise. I wonder what he sees in her.” Keira looked at her, recognizing the immediate antipathy in the woman’s gaze.
“Don’t concern yourself with Blanche, my dear,” Elizabeth said. “I’m certain Aaron Drake saw something that made him desirous of marrying you. Now sit down with us, and tell us all about it.” She pulled Keira over to a chair and pressed her down onto the seat. “Where are you from, my dear?”
“A little village near the mountains,” Keira said. “You wouldn’t have heard of it.” She looked down when she saw the women glance at one another.
“A girl from the country,” Joan said as Blanche tittered.
“Now, now,” Elizabeth said, “she can’t help where she comes from.” She turned to Keira. “How did you meet Aaron?”
“I … uh … I met him in the market.”
“In the village market?”
“Yes.”
“Ah! You were out shopping?”
“Something like that,” Keira said. She glanced over to where Aaron was standing with a group of men. He had his back to her, but as she looked at him, he turned and met her gaze, holding it with his own. From the corner of her eyes she saw Blanche follow the direction of her gaze, then turn away with a soft snort.
“Did you hear what happened at the joust today?” Blanche turned back to the other ladies. “Isobe
l threw her handkerchief at the Black Knight, in defiance of the duke’s wishes!”
“I heard he’s sending her out of the city for a while.”
“But who do you suppose the Black Knight could be?”
“Mary Pritchard says” – Joan leaned forward and lowered her voice – “that he is not a knight at all. She says she knows who he is, but promised to keep his identity secret.”
“How would she know?”
“Because,” Joan whispered, “she’s sleeping with him.”
“No! What if Wesley finds out?”
“Wesley is in the country.” Joan leaned back with a satisfied grin. “And even if he did find out, he is too well satisfied with Agnes to care.”
“Agnes?”
“The daughter’s governess.”
As the ladies digested this new piece of gossip, a tinkling bell sounded from the doorway.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” a footman intoned loudly, “supper is served.”
Keira glanced around the room to see Aaron coming towards her. She took his arm gratefully, smiling at him when he squeezed her hand. A long table was laid with silverware that glittered in the light of a multitude of candles, standing in gold candelabra, and at each setting were elegantly-written name cards. Aaron had been placed near the head of the table, close to the prince, while Keira was seated at the opposite end, with men she didn’t know on either side of her. She drew in a deep breath and took her seat with the other guests.
The meal was a sumptuous affair, with each course quickly following the previous one. Keira soon gave up any efforts to make small talk with the men on either side of her, and instead listened to the conversation flowing around the table. Speculation was rife about the identity of the Black Knight, but the main topic of conversation was the dragon. It did not take long before the prince was plying Aaron with questions on how he would deal with the threat, but when Aaron gave no further indication of his intentions than he had that morning, the prince launched into his own narrative about Aaron’s skill with dragons.
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