As the men came closer to take a look at the situation, they heard Tedric’s words.
“
I humble myself to you, Conan! Even now I cannot see you clearly!”
Conan shook with rage as the men-at-arms helped Tedric to his feet.
“
Sir Theodoric has ordered you from the contest,” one guard reported.
“
But I have broken no tournament rule,” Tedric argued.
“
By the eye of God!” Conan roared.
“
I will kill you the next time you dare so much!” And with that he turned and walked toward his pavilion. It did not occur to him to stride valiantly toward Medwin’s box and collect a kiss from the fair Chandra in reward for his success. Outside his tent his squires were bent over the splintered remains of his lance, with Thurwell and Mallory looking on.
“
See here, Conan,” Mallory said.
“
This could be the mark of an injustice. Someone has tampered with your lances. There are small holes bored into the wood to weaken them. I would swear that it was Tedric.”
Conan looked sharply over his shoulder to see the beaten knight leaving the lists.
“
You can bring charges against him,” Mallory suggested.
“
It looks bad for Tedric.”
“
Is there any point?” Conan asked sharply.
“
Tedric has done me a great service. I have no doubt those marks were made by him or someone in his service, yet no one saw the act. I have other opponents on this day. Why not one of them? Charges would be difficult to prove, but even without proof I have come to see Tedric’s methods clearly. There is little chance he will find me so disadvantaged again.”
Galen approached Conan, his eyes downcast and a bright flush on his cheeks.
“
Sir Conan, ‘twas I who was set to guard your things. Though I did not leave or look away, the fault must be mine.”
Conan turned and looked at his young brother.
“
If this is trickery, Galen, there is no blame. You did your job well.”
Galen looked up to Conan.
“
Someday, Conan, I will prove
m
y worth. Someday I will be as skilled as I am faithful. It is my promise.”
Conan smiled at him.
“
I have no doubts, brother. And the day is not so far away, I vow.”
When Conan turned back to his friends, he was met with Mallory’s grave and determined stare.
“
Push him, Conan,” Mallory urged.
“
If you do not, you will find yourself faced with his treachery again.”
Conan smiled slyly and tried to bend his painful hand.
“
Yea, he will make another attempt one day. And I relish the opportunity.”
Udele looked to Medwin’s box and saw Chandra sitting on the edge of her seat. Her hands were folded in her lap and her back was straight, but the maid chewed her bottom lip nervously. She did not seem interested in the new knights making ready for the next contest. Rather, she intently watched the men gathered about Conan’s pavilion. Udele could nearly feel the upset churning in Chandra’s stomach.
“
Ah,” she thought angrily.
“
She loves him! It is plain!”
Lady Udele sent a page off to find out the extent of Conan’s injury, but her mind was not occupied with that. She bit her finger in concentration as she studied Chandra. It was clear that Chandra had set her sights on Conan. Udele knew Chandra to be a willful lass, and to further the burden, she was lovely and would become more beautiful with the passage of time. Already many young swains were looking in her direction.
The page returned and knelt at her feet.
“
Sir Conan’s hand is badly broken, lady, but he says ‘tis yet good enough to see the day well met. He wraps it tightly for the next match.”
“
My lord, you must stop him,” Udele said.
“
He will do some further injury, and at the very least will lose because of it.” Udele touched the sleeve of Alaric’s great robe, for he did not move a muscle, but looked straight ahead to the lists.
“
Alaric? Stop him, I pray you.”
“
Nay. His life is his own. I gave him his last command when I told him to live by his oath.”
“
He will do as you order!”
“
Aye, he will,” Alaric replied, looking at his wife and setting his jaw.
“
We will be humiliated should he
--
”
“
Madam, I will not have a son whose only strength comes
f
rom his father’s order. He will do as he will
--
and live with the result.”
Udele gritted her teeth, for she had never succeeded in moving Alaric to her will and the frustration grew greater as the years passed.
“
He may well live with a stump at the end of his arm. And that would please you well.”
“
Silence yourself, madam! Give credit to Conan’s good judgment. It was years in the making.”
It seemed an eternity before Conan was ready to ride again. Udele held her breath as she noticed his opponent bore the crest of the black rose. Given the best circumstances, Conan would find it difficult to best Sir Garrett.
Udele cast a glance toward Chandra to find the maid giving all her attention to the contest while the other young women all around her chattered and flirted.
Why would one so young give anything such serious attention?
Udele wondered. To think that Chandra was ready for marriage was unsettling.
Conan and Garrett rode toward each other. Conan’s lance was braced under his right arm, but he used his left hand to steady it. Garrett’s blunted lance struck Conan’s shoulder, but glanced off. Conan’s lance did not reach his opponent. They passed, came around the tilt to change sides, and made ready to charge again. Conan shifted his lance and moved it to his left side. It was an impossible position, giving Garrett every advantage.
“
See,” Udele said, tugging at Alaric’s sleeve.
“
Conan uses his left hand and the weapon is heavy. He will lose. He may be badly injured.”
Alaric grunted.
“
He may indeed, madam.”
“
Give thought to the future, my lord,” she beseeched him.
“
What good can Conan do if he is maimed?”
“
I cannot stop the contest,” Alaric said.
Conan and Garrett came together with a great smashing of armor, both knights falling to the ground. Conan threw down his lance and shield. The crowd became quiet and intent. Conan could not hold both his shield and his broadsword: he had but one good hand. Sir Garrett stood momentarily confused, not wishing to take unfair advantage of an oppo
nent so beset. Garrett was a proud knight
--
beating Conan when his hand was crippled would mean little.
Conan did not wait for Garrett’s approval of the conditions of the contest. He crossed the tilt and came to stand on
Garrett’s side, sword drawn and ready. Garrett hesitated, but Conan struck the first blow, removing any further doubt that he was ready to carry on the fight on foot.
Conan fought mightily, Garrett’s sword glancing off his armor and Conan’s weapon meeting most often with the shield. A blow to the shoulder caused Conan to lose his footing and hit the turf, but he rolled with an agility that belied the weight of his armor and was upright again, ready for the fight. He braced himself for Garrett’s next blow, but the opposing knight seemed stunned. The crowd stood.
Sir Garrett threw down his shield and faced Conan. It was a thing so rare that the spectators did not know how to react. Winning was so important that never did a knight give any advantage to an opponent.
“
Alaric, what has he done?” Udele asked.
“
It is plain, madam, that Sir Garrett will find little joy in besting an injured knight. He will meet Conan with the same advantage.”
The two came together again, void of shields, their heavy swords bouncing off each other. The sheath covering Garrett’s broadsword so that he would not do severe injury to his opponent was lost, and neither knight seemed to notice. The crowd gasped and cried out, and the men-at-arms made ready to ride onto the field.
“
God above!” Udele cried.
“
Alaric, stop the contest!”
But Alaric was as still as stone. The men-at-arms would put a halt to the fighting before any real damage could be done, and the two combatants would not be allowed to resume until Garrett’s broadsword was fixed with the protective covering. But before the men could reach them, Conan’s sword struck home and Garrett fell to the ground, stunned and immobile.
Conan stood over him and waited for him to rise. The men-at-arms stopped where they were and waited. Conan dropped to one knee and removed his helm. He reached out a hand to shake Garrett and then threw down his sword. He helped the beaten knight to his feet and the two stood in the center of the field, Garrett slumping slightly.
Sir Garrett’s squires came running to aid their master to his pavilion, and Conan raised his hand high above his head, looking in the direction of his parents.
“
It is a miracle,” Udele breathed.
“
It is years of training,” Alaric corrected.
“
You take this so easily,” she accused.
Alaric’s jaw tensed.
“
You take this easily, madam, not I. Do you imagine he would be excused from war because his hand pained him?” Udele sat back in her chair, prepared to hear her husband’s lecture.
“
It is the grandness of this tourney that befuddles your brain. It may surprise you to think of it as more than a pretty party for maids and their swains. It is a contest of arms! Whether Conan wins or loses, what he learns out there today may one day save his life.”
Udele pursed her lips and refused to look at Alaric. She despised his patronizing perception of her as a giddy and foolish woman. She understood the tourney, but she had not thought it worth sacrificing her son before he had even begun to make his way in the world.
Udele stood and brushed her skirts down to smooth them.
“
You must excuse me, my lord. I find watching this contest too taxing.”
“
You should not leave, lady. You must be here when the tourney is over.”
“
I will return before very long, my lord. Permit me a slight rest from the trials, at least while my son competes with an injury?”
“
Very well, lady. Excuse yourself if you must.”
Udele was trailed back to the hall by some of her ladies, her daughter Edythe among them. As she passed Medwin’s box she glanced at Chandra. The lass stood and waved toward Conan as he left the field. Her cheeks were flushed bright and her smile was wildly enthusiastic. Chandra yearned for Sir Conan publicly, proudly.
Udele heard her women behind her as they laughed and talked. When she neared the hall she paused and turned to them.
“
Make yourselves at ease here, ladies, and allow me some moments of quiet. I will return anon.”
Those attending Udele remained in the courtyard and allowed her to enter the hall alone. Her step was quick and her head low as she contemplated her situation. She nearly fell over a knight sitting near the stair.
“
Pardon, lady, I
--
”
Udele straightened herself and saw that it was Tedric. For a moment her expression was all surprise, for she had not expected to see him, then her features molded into a sneer.
“
So, Sir Tedric, you are waiting out the tourney here?”
Tedric flinched with the insult.
“
I have been excused, lady, but my father has not heard my explanations. All will be well when I have had some time to clear my name.”
“
I should think it would take much more than a few words, Tedric. There were many witnesses to your unfair assault.”
Tedric’s lips formed an insincere smile.
“
All will assume that Sir Conan is the just and I, the unjust. It has always been thus, in his family and in my own.”
“
And you will deny it?” Udele questioned tartly. She could not help but notice the swelling of one eye and wondered, briefly, if Tedric had indeed been blinded.
“
I have long sought to show my father that I can equal Conan’s strength in arms, but once again Conan shines in the wake of my misfortune.”
Udele threw her arm wide.
“
Go yonder, sir knight, and look at the shine of my son! He is sore injured and will not cease in the games. But they will not allow your entry, will they?”
Tedric’s mouth formed a thin, furious line and his rage was intense.
“
My lowly state in my father’s house leaves all to praise the Falcon and scorn my every effort to show my worth. But I vow, lady, my wealth and influence will one day match his, and even you will treat me kindly.”