Page 16 of Chivalry in the Meadow (Hope Runs Deep #2)

The two knights readied to go at it again.

“He’s an odd one,” Finn said, watching the herald.

“He’s very colorful in his red and purple,” Lilly said with a laugh. “It’s not hard to pick him out in a crowd.”

“That’s the thing, Lil,” Finn said. “He only wears that when he’s announcing. The rest of the time he wears black and skulks around the encampment. I caught him picking up some of my equipment to look at it and then he put it down quick, made a lame excuse of being curious, and walked away.”

“Maybe he was just curious,” Mia said. “I’ll bet a lot of people are. I know I was before you explained how it works.”

“Possibly, but I doubt that’s the reason,” Finn said.

“They say he’s been at the Ren Faire since it began, and I know they’ve hired a fire breather every year.

So, it won’t be a new thing to him. Like I said, he’s dodgy.

I’ve started locking my equipment in its travel trunk in between performances.

Fire isn’t something to mess around with and I don’t want anyone messing with my equipment. ”

“Oh, I don’t blame you,” Lilly said. “Yes, keep your equipment locked up. I expect you would need to do that anyway.”

Mia now watching the herald, noted his gaze landed on her briefly, before looking away. His gaze made her uneasy in a queasy sort of way.

“Prepare for the third pass!” the herald announced.

The field grew hushed. Even the banners seemed to still in the wind.

Mia caught her breath. There was something here that she ought to know.

But she was too wound tight. A knowing would only come when she relaxed enough.

The rivalry between Sir Cedric and Sir Alaric was no longer subtle.

Everyone in the crowd could feel it, and the tension built like a bowstring drawn taut.

The trumpet called.

The knights charged. This time there was no flourish, no play for the crowd.

Sir Cedric drove with fierce determination, his lance aimed to unseat his rival.

Sir Alaric lowered his weapon with deadly precision, every line of his body bent toward impact.

The collision rang like a clap of thunder. Splinters flew in a golden spray.

Sir Cedric’s lance shattered against Sir Alaric’s breastplate.

Sir Alaric’s lance struck Sir Cedric’s shield and broke through, driving him sideways in the saddle.

For a breathless instant, it seemed Sir Cedric would fall.

Gasps rippled through the stands. The white knight could not fail. The populace was rooting for him.

Then with a desperate surge, he righted himself, still astride, though barely.

The herald rushed forward, raising his arms. “A draw!” he cried.

The crowd roared approval, though disappointment echoed too. Many had hoped to see a clear victor.

Sir Cedric swept off his helm, tossing his blond hair back with a grin, as if he’d planned it all along. He flashed Mia a wink that sent a ripple of cheers through the stands. It was as if he had singled her out as his lady.

Sir Alaric removed his helm as well, his dark gaze finding hers. There was no grin, no triumph in his expression. Only the steady, unflinching weight of a man who would never play for the crowd, but for the truth.

Mia’s heart thudded painfully in her chest.

Between the knight of gold and the knight of shadow, she couldn’t say which one unsettled her more. And now that she’d been singled out, the strange herald and the crowd were watching her too.

He face heated, uncomfortable with all the attention.

Sir Cedric however was eating it up.

The knights would tilt again and the third Jousting session in early evening. Now they would dismount, remove their armor and care for their horses.

“Ready to go meet them?” Finn asked. “I can see that you both need a nudge in that direction. You’re still wearing your hair ribbons!”

“Why, yes, I am,” Lilly said. “Were you planning to go other there with us?”

“I certainly can,” he said. “I’ve nothing further until it gets dark again. Let us walk.” He gave them both and arm to hold so he could escort them. “Ladies, are you ready?”

“As ready as I can be,” Mia said. Her face was still warm from all that attention.

Finn walked them across, to a mostly empty field, as the crowd had been moved along with no autographing session this time. That wouldn’t happen again until after the third jousting session this evening.

They reached Sir Elias first, as he was standing near his horse, removing armor.

“Sir Elias,” Finn said, “May I introduce my cousin, Lady Lilly.”

Sir Elias reached for her hand with a smile and as she reached out for him, took her hand in his. “Tis a pleasure, milady.” He bowed.

Lilly, beaming from ear to ear, curtsied. “Milord.”

“Will you be attending the masquerade bonfire ball tonight?” he asked.

“Yes,” she smiled deeper, “I will be.”

“Then I hope you will save me a dance,” he said.

“I will,” she said. “But behind a mask, how will I know which one is you?”

“Never fear,” he said. “ I will find you .”

Finn had walked Mia closer to Sir Cedric and Sir Alaric, but Sir Cedric stepped toward first. “And this lady is?” He smiled his most charming smile at Mia.

She blushed again, suddenly tongue tied.

“May I introduce Lady Mia,” Finn said.

Sir Cedric took her hand, bent to kiss the back of it, and standing again said, “Enchanted.”

Mia giggled.

“I trust you ladies are now in good hands, so I will retire to the pub for a cool pint,” Finn said with a wave of his hat.

“Thank you, Finn,” Lilly called.

He waved his hat over his head in response as he walked away.

Mia barely took that in as Sir Cedric had captured her full attention, and she felt like a blushing schoolgirl. His horse snorted and she jumped, then looked up wide eyed at the large white stallion.

“He is bigger up close,” she said, looking up at the horse.

“Indeed, he is,” Sir Cedric said, his smile telling her he wasn’t only referring to his horse. “I believe you’ve met him already this morning and can attest to that.”

She blushed remembering how she’d been seated upon Sir Cedric’s muscular leg and sat atop his horse. “Yes, I can,” she said. “It was startling at first.”

Sir Cedric beamed his smile at her. He led her to the side, more out of the way of his big horse. “Await here, milady” he said. “I shan’t be long.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

He glanced at his squire who was removing the armor from his horse. He turned to face him. “Come here, squire,” he commanded. “Leave the horse and help me with my armor.”

Mia wrinkled her brow at the way he spoke to his squire. She didn’t care for the abrupt way he spoke to the boy or the tone he used.

Perhaps he’s sore from jousting and needs his squire to remove the heavy armor.

She let out a breath, let the frown ease, relaxing and giving him the benefit of the doubt.

Sir Alaric, who’d been watching them both, while helping his squire care for his horse, came over to her now, still wearing most of his armor. He stopped in front of her and said, “Lady Mia, it is good to see you again. I trust you are enjoying the faire?”

Sir Cedric turned his head and sent him a scowl, his lips forming a thin line.

Was he jealous?

“I am, Sir Alaric,” she said with a smile.

She glanced over at the horses at the edge of the tiltyard. Most had their amor removed except for Sir Cedric’s horse.

Squires were hurrying to gather all the horse’s armor, placing it in two large wagons which stood nearby.

“Your horses are magnificent up close,” she said, eyeing the broad-chested destriers with their glossy coats, and their nostrils still flaring from the strain of the joust. “I’ve never seen horses so big.”

“They are, milady,” Sir Alaric said. “These breeds are made to be the best warhorses.”

“Of course,” Sir Cedric butted in sounding as if everyone should know this. “A knight must always have the best horse. Mine has impeccable bloodlines.”

She saw two of the squires already leading horses away and as she watched them go, she wondered where they were taking them.

Sir Alaric had turned back to help his squire finish removing the armor from his horse. The squire was now carrying it toward the wagon.

She hesitated, then took a step toward Sir Alaric.

Sir Cedric, off to the side had begun to berate his squire for something, but she ignored that, her focus on Sir Alaric now.

He held his gauntlets, and his helm tucked beneath one arm. His dark eyes flicked toward her, unreadable as ever, as he and his squire kept removing armor.

“Sir Alaric?” Her voice caught faintly in her throat. “Forgive me for interrupting, but where do they take the horses after the joust? To the stables, I mean?”

“Not an interruption, at all milady,” he said.

“Tis my pleasure.” For a moment only, he studied her.

Then he inclined his head toward the far side of the field.

“Past the tiltyard, beyond the armorer’s tent.

You’ll find the stables against the tree line.

” His voice was low, quiet, but there was something in it that made the simple directions sound weighty, as though he were telling her more than she asked.

“And…who cares for them?” she asked, emboldened by the way his gaze stayed steady on hers.

“The squires,” he answered, slipping his gauntlets onto his belt. “And the grooms. They see to the feeding, the cleaning, the care. A knight cannot fight without his horse, nor live without those who tend it.” His tone softened, almost reverent at those last words.

He ran a hand along his stallion’s neck before passing the reins to the waiting squire with respect and not a hint of superiority.

How different he was from Sir Cedric.

Mia nodded, tucking the directions away in her mind. She wanted to see the stables for herself, to understand what happened behind the pageantry. But more than that, she felt the pull of his words, the respect beneath the hardness, a glimpse of the man behind the steel.

There was kindness beneath that, beneath his brooding nature.