Page 25 of An Ill-Made Match

Eden looked back and sure enough found the squires were passing up lances to those knights that were still seated. It seemed Roland had held onto his lance as Eden noticed Cuthbert’s blonde head glinting in the sun on the sidelines. Rather than running forward with the rest of the company, he was still lolling on the edges, as if he had not a care in the world. When the squires fell back and the horses started forward again, Eden let out a strangled cry. “But what about the men who are fallen?”

“They’ll be fine,” Hall assured her, licking his fingers. “Look, even now they’re drawing their swords.”

Eden looked, but while that was true of a most of them, at least two of their number being dragged from the field. One of them merely looked dazed and was mumbling. The other though was being dragged by his heels and looked to Eden’s eye, completely dead to the world.

“Oh poor Sir Renlowe!” exclaimed Gunnilde, and Eden surmised this must be the unfortunate who had suffered a broken nose the day before.

Why on earth would he not retire from the lists after suffering such an ignoble defeat the day before? The crash of lance against shield, made her jump, dragging her from her thoughts. Again, several bodies were rolling in the dust. Eden’s eyes sought their crests to make out who was who in the bewildering throng. “I can’t quite-“

“He’s there,” said Hal, pointing a finger to a knight on horseback.

“Oh yes,” she said relieved, before frowning. “Though he’s lost his lance this time.” Her gaze swept to Cuthbert, who was looking alert now and already had a replacement in his hand ready. The horses were reforming and galloped toward the other side of the field where the squires were already running forward. “How long does this go on for?”

“Until they’re all unseated and there’s a clear winning side,” shrugged Hal.

“Well, how long does that usually take?”

“Depends,” said Hal, selecting another sticky piece of marchpane with great deliberation. “I did hear tell of one melee that went on for three whole days.”

“What?” Eden could not keep the note of horror from her voice.

He grinned. “But there were over four hundred knights competing in that one.”

Eden breathed out with relief. To her eye there were no more than twenty on each side today.

“There’s a fair few knights on the ground now,” Gunnilde pointed out, nudging Eden in the side.

Eden looked and indeed there were. They had been hacking and slashing at each other a few minutes ago but now they had fallen back to gaze at the enemy line with their swords held ready for the next charge. “It seems very dangerous to be in the thick of it like that, amidst all the charging horses.”

“See how they’ve started forming into groups,” pointed out Gunnilde. Surely enough, they were now stood in threes and fours. “They’ll start trying to pull the knights off their mounts now likely as not.”

“What?”

“You’ll see,” said Gunnilde complacently.

“Surely you jest?” quavered Eden. She was sure there had been none of that at the Royal tournaments.

Gunnilde shook her head, her eyes glued on the field. “See that one there,” she said pointing to a large knight in black armor. His helmet was horned and somehow quite monstrous to look at. Her voice lowered to an awed whisper. “That’s Lord Kentigern.”

“I think I heard someone mention his name earlier, but I don’t think-?”

“He’s one of the Northern Lords, and a very fearsome fighter. He was apparently of great renown in the North, but only just earning his fame in these parts.”

Eden gazed at him in some trepidation. He was on the opposing side to Roland. Then her eyes turned back to the side of the field where the fallen knights had been dragged. To her horror, she found they were being bound hand and foot by the squires. “Whatever are they doing?” she asked faintly. “Surely they should be having their wounds being treated to, rather than being handled so roughly?”

Hal glanced at her face and then the direction of her gaze. “Oh, them? They’ll be ransomed tonight at the feast.”

“Ransomed?” Eden stared at him.

“Aye, for prize money,” he explained calmly.

Eden, suddenly realized that these rural tournaments were a lot more rough and ready than the court ones she had attended.

“Eden,” said Gunnilde, shaking her arm. “You’ll miss the next charge!”

Roland had wheeled his horse around again and looked poised to charge. To Eden’s trepidation he looked exactly center in the line-up now which meant his direct counter was the ferocious Lord Kentigern. Eden felt a sense of foreboding stealing over her. Roland’s tall, muscular physique was impressive, but Lord Kentigern looked like the stuff of nightmares. Eden found her fingernails biting into her palms, and had to force herself to uncurl her fingers. This was brutal! How could people find this entertaining?

“There’s a hair on this piece of gingerbread!” complained Hal, sticking out his tongue.