Chapter Three:
The Knight
The next day's first event was archery afoot, not one of mine, so Vostiv and I waited in my house tent. Laughter and jokes were shared all around, without the macabre undertones of soldiers pre-battle. Then came the jousting, the most popular event by far.
A long rope decorated with flags hung the length of the tilt to separate the contestants as they charged. Three ropes actually, to ensure the hundreds of knights could all tilt multiple times throughout the afternoon.
Both knights rode at each other full speed, attempting to shatter the shield of their opponent or knock her out of her saddle. The former was standard, the latter difficult and unusual. Each contest involved three runs at each other, with the number of shields shattered determining a full, split, or lack of victory. A clear victor would ride against a new challenger, while a lack of victory meant both women would return to the lists and two new competitors would joust.
Probably a hundred knights had ridden when a pattern emerged on the far line. The same knight had bested twelve challengers in a row, in full victories no less. Four or maybe five was considered an exceptionally good run. Twelve was nigh on impossible.
And then she reached fourteen.
Trogox yelled out, "House Laerdya!"
I trotted over with a few dozen distant cousins, watching the knight as she shattered another shield. She wore gray and orange, house colors I didn't recognize.
The other knights seemed to all talk at once.
"We can't let this stand."
"An affront."
"House Rivadya bitch must be cheating."
"You'd risk asking that?"
"For a tilting knight to display her inner shield?"
"Not even if the filthy cheat won the whole tourney."
"Must be steel sheeting inside her shields though."
"So what then?"
The grousing became redundant quickly and seemed to be working to no purpose outside itself. (Apparently, our houses are great rivals, but you couldn't have proven it by me.)
I spoke out clearly, "Send me. I can unhorse her."
Trogox held up her hands up for silence, "What if she unhorses you?"
"I'm a cataphract in the Queen's army. Even stone dead, no one will knock me from Savaran's saddle."
"You might still be beaten."
"I might, but I'm the least of us and untested in the lists. I could fairly be expected to lose and have no House honor lost with me."
"Done. Go. We'll keep planning," she didn't seem to believe in me so much as believe that sending me couldn't hurt, would prove House Laerdya would fearlessly face the unbeaten knight, and would buy time.
Looking at the way the Rivadya knight moved her arms and torso, or didn't rather, I thought her shield was fully wooden and up to code. Her vambraces, however, were welded to her lance hold and to her shield. Not technically against the rules, but very unsporting against others in plate armor.
I did not wear plate armor.
Many challengers had lined up to face her at first, but the line thinned appreciably by the time I joined it, no one seeking a likely loss. I removed my gauntlets, but retained the leather gloves that I wore beneath. Two more opponents got all three of their shields smashed while hers remained pristine. Then I faced the Rivadya knight.
She charged full speed, apparently intent on simply shattering my shield as she had all her earlier challengers.
I ran Savaran slow and a few feet to the outside of the rope, forcing my stiff armored opponent to widen the angle of her lance without changing the height. I dropped my own lance, not planning to strike a shield I couldn't shatter.
As we closed, I slowed Savaran to a near walk. The lack of momentum would help him keep his feet when we collided with his opposite charging at full tilt, but would also grant me a few stolen moments to time my grab.
At the last moment, I turned Savaran away sharply so my opponent's lance would be across my upper body. I pushed hard into the stirrups, squeezed my thighs together so Savaran would stop, and leaned my hips forward so he'd lower his head.
Her lance glinted in the sun's glare for a moment before me. I caught the damned thing in both hands and held on tight while Savaran planted his heavy hooves.
Understand that Savaran is not magical. He is the best warhorse to have ever existed in my biased opinion, but he was of equal weight and breeding with the stallion charging against him. His primary advantage was that I had a plan that we were both executing, one that the horse and rider charging against us were not at all prepared to face and would not react to in concert.
It was also a plan that wouldn't have worked if my steed and I lacked the absolute faith in one another that could only be built of years in training and fighting together.
Savaran held. The lance in my hands snapped as the Rivadya knight's warhorse reared and the unsporting noble tumbled off, head over tail.
The massive crowd roared deafeningly at the unexpected feat of an unknown jouster unhorsing a knight who'd enjoyed such great recent success.
The Rivadya knight was rather unceremoniously helped from the field by her squire and a few servants in gray and orange, her lance pommel and intact shield still affixed in place. I didn't see her again over the course of the tournament and no talk reached me of charges of cheating. Since the technique was now demonstrably defeatable in such an embarrassing way, I imagined the issue was considered moot.
I won traditionally against my next two challengers, both split victories, then lost to the third. I re-entered the lists a dozen or so more times, chalking up more wins than losses as I tilted against twenty some knights, but nothing to suggest that I'd be a jousting prodigy.
With about an hour to sunset, the open lists were halted and royal heralds announced the top sixteen contestants. I was unsurprised when my name wasn't called, since my overall performance was middling.
Still mounted, the other uncalled knights and I watched with our squires beside us as the sixteen were winnowed to one. Trogox brought her horse beside mine.
"That," she complimented me openly on defeating the Rivadya knight, "was a good piece of work. A smart piece of work."
"Thank you, General," I accepted the compliment and awaited the ask.
"So, did you speak with one of the Princesses?"
"I did. I'll be going to war as an aide-de-camp for General Heoldax."
"The hell you will," Trogox's immediate rage burst forth, "You belong to House Laerdya, whether you live in the palace or out in the sticks. She can't simply coopt you because you didn't turn out to be a complete moron."
