by Fiona Faris
She kept getting flashes of his face as he leered at her, his intentions clear in his eyes. She realized that she could not have walked past alone and was thankful that Flora was there, although her friend walking in front of her had not noticed her troubles and was obviously lost in her own thoughts. The carriage ride had been quiet, and now they had finally made it to the lists.
Lilia had thought that she would be going to sit with the crowd, but this time, Flora led her to the tents where the jousters were. She was slightly confused, but she did not mind, it made sense that the four of them would be together on the final day of the matches.
“Ah, ye’re here,” Osgar had said in greeting when they entered. He only spared them a glance before going back to his discussion with Uielam, who was getting into his armor. She caught his eye when she looked at him, and he gave her his signature grin, causing her to blush and look away self consciously.
Flora had caught the exchange, and a small worried frown curved her lips, but she did not say anything, a kindness for which she was glad. The farmer was not in the tent as he was out in the open, making his rounds on horseback without his helmet, greeting the crowds.
Osgar was in the middle of an important discussion with Uielam.
“I am still nae in favor of the plan where ye use yerself as bait to lure him out. These grounds are crawlin’ with soldiers who would catch him before he could hurt ye, but what about if they cannae? The Black Knight is considered the best assassin, how dae we ken that he cannae slip past the guards?” Osgar was saying. Uielam only shrugged, getting to his feet after putting on his chest piece.
“I daenae ken, but ye see, I have a good feelin’ that I willnae die today. I made someone a promise to talk to them when this is all over,” he said, looking directly at Lilia. She blushed again, deeper this time. Osgar looked confused for a moment before he realized what Uielam was talking about.
“Oh gods ye bloody dobber, dae ye think this is the time to be flirtin’?” Osgar asked, smacking Uielam’s arm. “I’m bloody tired of ye, I’ll go inform the soldiers to be on alert.”
Osgar left, and she and Flora sat down with Uielam, waiting for the matches to start. Once they did, they went to sit outside of the tent instead, to watch. Despite her nervousness, Lilia could not help beginning to grin as Uielam went through his matches, riding his horse with her handkerchief flying behind him in the wind.
…
It was nearing the end of the competition, and Shug had finally figured out what Osgar Abernathy and The Younger were doing. He had stayed watching as the cloaked figure entered the tent and waited to see who would come out. He had been slightly confused when the jouster who came out of the tent was not Uielam Younger, but he continued to watch.
Before long, he caught sight of the maid Lilia approaching. He had shielded his face immediately and changed the position of his shoulders so that she would not notice who he was even if she happened to glance his way. She was following behind a noblewoman, and to his surprise, they went straight to that tent.
His suspicions were at an all-time high at that point, and he continued to watch. Finally, Osgar emerged from the tent, proving to Shug that The Younger was the cloaked figure after all. What he did not understand, however, what it was that they were doing. Was he in hiding and watching the tournament because he was too cowardly to go the southern borders?
It was not until the jouster returned to the tent and re-emerged with a helmet that Shug understood what was going on. To an ordinary person, they would not have been able to notice the small changes, but Shug noticed immediately. The gait was different and that of a nobleman now. He held his head higher and took smaller steps. The man’s presence on horseback was also different.
The matches had flown by quickly, and Uielam dominated each one while Shug tried to avoid the soldiers milling around or marching past. He had realized their little ruse. His mark was on horseback, and the commoner who came out without his helmet was just a decoy. Uielam, like the pompous brat that he was, did not seem to take him as a serious threat. He had been too cowardly to go fight the enemies at the border, and instead, he was in hiding and participating in the tournament.
Shug was not sure if he should be annoyed or thankful. Now that he knew what was going on, he knew how to act. Uielam would no longer be able to escape him. The next scheduled match was the last one… Uielam would be going against the last man who had won all of his matches as well. He slinked behind the tents, hiding in between tents and shielding himself with horses all to avoid the soldiers.
He finally reached the tent he had been aiming for and looking around to make sure that there was no one watching he jumped out of his hiding place into a tuck and roll before slipping into the tent. He’d made it. The man was alone in his tent, his helmet in his hands, and he turned to give him a confused look as he got to his feet.
“Um… Who are ye?” the man asked. Shug cocked his head to one side, studying him. Unfortunately, he was on the big side, he was a bit taller and broader than Shug with his thick sinewy arms, he seemed to be a foreigner.
Tis just me luck, how am I to fell this giant monster ey? All this just for one stupid brat!
Shug complained in his head, but he got to his feet and gave the confused giant a smile. “I will be gentle,” he said, causing the man to frown in even deeper confusion. In lightning speed Shug grabbed the helmet from his hands and put it over his fist like a glove, using the man’s seat as a step he jumped on it and launched himself up to punch the giant directly on the nose with all of his strength, smiling when he heard the satisfying crunch of bone.
The giant staggered, stunned but not quite down yet, so Shug grabbed a lance and used it as a bat, spinning around to stand behind him and breaking the lance against the back of his head. Finally, the giant fell forwards, collapsing on the ground. Shug sighed and shook his aching fingers. The helmet was a daring but necessary choice. He flexed his hand, his fingers hurt, but they would be alright after a while.
Now that he had felled the giant, he faced another problem. How was he going to get into his clothes? He looked around the tent, hoping for spare armor, and luckily, he found some. He grinned, rushing over to change his clothes before he would need to go out. Finally, things were going his way.
…
Uielam downed the water that had just been handed to him until the wooden bowl was empty. He gave it back to Osgar and wiped his mouth. His matches had been going smoothly, some of the jousters were really talented, but he was still more skilled and won his matches. It was finally time for the last match, after which he would reveal himself once he won.
“I have me men waitin’ in every corner watchin’ the stands. If there is anythin’ that seems even remotely as though it might harm ye, they will be on them immediately,” Osgar said, and Uielam nodded. He was not worried at all. Instead, he wanted to win as quickly as possible and then express his feelings to Lilia adequately. He wondered how he should do it. He wanted something beautiful and romantic… Perhaps he would take her to the waterfalls in the north. It was the best view in the whole clan. It was the perfect place to confess his feelings and intentions.
She was sitting out in front of the tent with Flora, they had the best view of the matches. Knowing that Lilia was watching was all the motivation he needed to win. He was calmer and less ruthless than in his other matches and was allowing his opponents to show their skills. She seemed to be enjoying the matches as she had been grinning from ear to ear. He was just glad to have pulled her out of her nervousness.
From the moment she entered the tent with Flora, he knew that she had told her friend what happened between them. He caught the worried looks that Flora continued to give Lilia and the dirty looks that she threw his way although she kept her tongue on a leash. He hoped to talk to her as well, he felt he needed to let her know that his intentions were good. She was like a sister to him, after all.
“With the way that Flora looks as though she might kill ye befor
e the assassin gets a chance to and how ye seem to have yer mind elsewhere and nae on the possible threat of the assassin, I am assumin’ that ye have done somethin’ else with Lilia,” Osgar drawled, his hands folded across his chest. Uielam gave him a sheepish smile. He hadn’t been listening to him while he explained the arrangement with the soldiers.
“Aye… I am sorry for bein’ distracted. I am in love with Lilia, and I have decided to tell me faither about her. Also, last night we… I made love to her last night,” Uielam confessed.
Osgar’s brows raised at that, and he looked towards the front of the tent where the women sat.
“Nay wonder Flora looks like she might kill ye. What were ye thinkin’? With yer track record, this simply looks like another one of yer meaningless rolls in the hay,” Osgar said.
“Aye, I ken that, which is why I told her that I want to talk to her. Maybe ye should talk to Flora so she would stop tryin’ to kill me with her eyes,” he said.
Osgar snorted, throwing his hands in the air as he headed back out of the tent.
“Oi, ye leave me out of this. I am nae the middle man between ye two. Besides, ye daenae want to tell her before ye tell Lilia. She will nae keep her mouth shut, and Lilia should hear directly from ye first,” Osgar said before leaving to go sit in front of the tent with his sister.
Uielam waited alone for a few moments until the farmer returned to the tent, and they made their switch. Uielam rode over to his position and watched his last opponent do the same. He frowned beneath his helmet. There was something a bit off about the man… His armor seemed bigger than him in a way. Why would he wear oversized armor? Would it not hinder him in his match? More importantly, how did he make it to the final match in such ill-fitting armor? Instinctively, Uielam was more on guard, there was something wrong with this opponent.
They rode up to each other and Uielam got more and more uncomfortable, he raised his lance for the attack and the opponent did so as well. Uielam’s eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of the sun reflecting off the tip of his opponent’s lance.
His opponent’s lance surged forward, and he gasped. The blade was aimed straight for his neck. Uielam raised his lance-wielding hand instinctively, in an attempt to shield his neck. The blade sliced through his hand instead, tearing his palm open and slicing a straight line through his wrist, stopping midway to his elbow.
He cried out as the pain hit him, and blood spurted out of his injury. He caught his opponent’s dark eyes through the opening in his helmet and saw the bloodlust, the man truly meant to kill him. He grabbed the bladed lance with his other hand and pushed as he rode past. His opponent lurched from his horse to the ground, effectively ending their match and any possibility of another attack. Uielam rode off the lists as his opposer scurried to his feet.
The crowd was cheering, not all of them noticing the fact that he was bleeding copious amounts unto his armor and his horse’s dark coat. He slid off his horse and grabbed his injured hand, trying to staunch the bleeding with his palm, but he was losing strength rather quickly. He had just fallen to his knees when Osgar, Flora, and Lilia reached him. They looked panicked and were yelling words he could not understand.
“I… am alright…” he said, but his body betrayed him, and he collapsed onto his face, suddenly too tired to stay upright.
Oh, that was embarrassing
He thought as he lay there. He had said he was alright, but his body said the opposite.
“Get him to the tent!” He heard Osgar order someone. Rushing footsteps approached until arms suddenly grabbed him by his extremities, and he was being transported to his tent.
“Is he alright?!” He heard Flora’s panicked voice. It seemed that her anger had dissipated after seeing him in trouble.
They laid him on the ground, and someone took off his helmet, and another took off his chest piece.
He could hear Lilia giving instructions, and his eyes rolled around in his head as he looked around for where she was. He saw her silhouette in front of the tent, the light shining from the open tent flap, making it hard to see her face as she pointed in the direction to the soldiers. Osgar also said something to her before rushing off.
“Lilia,” Uielam managed to call out, and she turned to look at him, rushing over to his side.
“I am here, Uielam. I am right here, ye stay with us, stay with us now I will dae me best to keep ye here,” she said, her voice sounding frantic.
She grabbed his injured arm and cut the bloodied cloth off him all the way to his shoulder. They both looked at his arm as it pulsed out blood from his injury. Lilia’s expression was horrified, but she acted quickly, grabbing his arm and washing it in the very bowl he had just drunk with, using water to clean off excess blood so she could see where he was actually injured.
“Nay… nay this is nae good…” she whispered, tears springing out of her eyes as more blood flowed out of the injury. Uielam looked at her tenderly as she rewashed his arm. He had wanted to wait for a better time, but with the way that his arm was coloring the bowl of water red, he might not get the chance to.
With the excess blood gone, they could see the line that continued to pulse blood. Lilia ripped the inner cloth of her dress and used the long strip of fabric to tie his arm right before his elbow in a vice lock, effectively cutting off the blood flow to his hand.
“Lilia, I had hoped to tell ye this in a better place… but I would regret it if I waited and ended up unable to,” he began. Lilia shushed him despite the tears in her eyes.
“Ye hush! I willnae allow ye to speak that way, I will heal ye!” She scolded.
The tent flap opened again, and Uielam looked over to see a soldier hurry in and hand her a large bottle of whiskey. She grabbed the jar and said a quick thank you as the soldier stared at Uielam, surprised that he was there, and the one who was injured. The young man caught his eye and jerked back in shock, bowing before scurrying out of the tent.
“This will hurt,” Lilia told him, and he raised his brow in question, turning to see what she meant. She had the bottle of whiskey poised over his arm, and he looked just in time to see her begin to pour it on the injury. He let out a loud groan as his arm exploded in stinging pain.
“I am sorry, I am sorry, just bear with this,” she said, continuing to pour the alcohol directly into the wound. She then took more strips from her torn dress and rinsed them in water first before dousing them in whiskey as well and tying them over the site of his injury like several cloth bracelets, forcing the skin around the wound to squeeze together and close the lesion.
“I am in love with ye,” Uielam confessed in the middle of his groans of pain as he struggled against his urge to take his arm from her ministrations, his breath shallow. Lilia’s hands stilled for a moment, and her tear-filled eyes shot to his. She snapped out of it quickly, beginning to work again and poured fresh whiskey over his arm.
“Uielam now is nae the time to discuss such things. I love ye too, and that is why ye must nae distract me lest I fail to save ye,” she said, struggling to wipe her tears. She tore off more of her dress, using it as an extra bandage and wrapping it over her handkerchief.
“It is exactly in case of if ye fail to save me that I want to tell ye everythin’,” Uielam said. “Ye changed me life. Ye made me confront the parts of meself that needed to be fixed and the parts that I shied away from, preferring to pretend that they were nae there. Ye have shown me how much a better man I can be, and I want to share that man with ye. I want ye to be me wife.”
Crying, Lilia lowered her head to kiss him. It was a bittersweet kiss, and he could feel how scared she was for him. The bleeding had been a lot, and she was not a healer. All she could do was what she could to help him wait for a healer to come and take a look at him. If he were unlucky, he would not survive until the healer arrived.
He wondered where Lilia got her experience in healing from; she had seemed to know what she was doing, although she seemed unsure in her skills. That was another thing he neede
d to ask her. There was so much to her that he still needed to find out, their love story had just barely begun, he did not want to die. She broke their kiss and looked at him with tearful eyes.
“Ye should nae make promises at a time like this, Uielam. I want ye to tell me that again when ye are well and nae at risk of dyin’,” she said.
He gave her a smile, and at that moment, Osgar stepped into the tent. He turned his eyes to his friend, who put a comforting hand on Lilia’s shoulder.
“Ye have done well, thank ye,” he told her. “I had the best healer in the clan called. Me carriage is probably at his home by now, and I gave orders that he be bundled here even if he is naked and in a bath or betwixt a lover’s arms. Yer efforts will ensure that Uielam will still be alive by the time he gets here.”
Lilia wiped her tears and nodded. Done addressing her, Osgar squatted, looking down at Uielam.