Joust of Honor A Knights Story

Chapter Four As the sun reached its highest point in the sky, Jed and I made our way across the tournament field. I could tell by the way he tossed his head and pawed the ground that he was impatient to get underway. As for me, it was another story. I felt lousy! My limbs were heavy, my chest ached, and my head felt as if it had been stuffed with goose down.The trouble was, I was exhausted. I hadn't slept a wink all night. I just couldn't stop thinking about the fix I was in.Should I throw the joust, as Duke Wolfhound wanted, and walk away with a heavy purse? Or should I fight fair and save her ladyship, but risk a heavy beating from Wolfhound's thugs? My head said one thing, my heart said another, and I lay awake all night trying to choose. The early-morning light was streaming in through the holes of my moth-eaten tent before I decided at last what to do.I wasn't proud of my decision, I can tell you. It went against every knightly fiber of my body. But though I hated to do it, there was nothing else for it. I would go down to Hengist.Of course, I'd make it look good. I'd flip from Jed's back and, taking care to cushion my fall, land on the ground in a clatter of armor and a cloud of dust, but then stay down....Afterward I'd collect my promised gold from Duke Wolfhound and tell him to let her ladyship go, or I'd shop him to the herald and bring his tournament-rigging days to an end. And if Hengist were to have a problem with that, we could have a nice little chat about it, away from the tournament field. I also decided that I'd give her ladyship half the gold so that she and the troubadour could travel far away and live happily ever after.As plans went, it wasn't great; the herald might side with the duke, Hengist might prove to be a bit of a handful, and her ladyship might end up at the top of a tall tower with no staircase. But under the circumstances it was the best I could come up with.Just then a trumpet sounded loudly, and I looked round to see the herald waddling to the center of the field. The first joust was about to begin."At the south end, in wed and white stwipes," the herald proclaimed, "I give you bwave Sir Walph of Mountjoy!"The crowd cheered."At the north end," the herald continued, "dwessed in blue, the...errm...the Blue Knight!"The cheers grew louder. Everyone loves an underdog.The herald raised his arms. The crowd fell silent. All eyes turned toward her ladyship, who rose to her feet and let a glittering handkerchief flutter down over the balcony. It landed on the grass.The herald inspected it. "Let the field-of-gold joust commence!" he cried.At the second trumpet blast the Rich Kid spurred his black warhorse viciously. The animal sprang forward, its ears flat back, its muzzle foaming, the whites of its eyes glinting wildly as it tossed its head. It looked like a creature possessed.Glancing over at the duke, I noticed the raven-haired handmaid standing behind her ladyship, her dark, glaring eyes fixed on the horse and rider.At the other end of the field, I saw the Blue Knight urging his bony-looking nag forward. I shook my head. Whoever the Blue Knight was, he certainly wasn't a natural jouster. He rode like an east-country bumpkin, and he couldn't hold his lance steady if his life depended on it. And the way it was looking, it just might, because the Rich Kid had gotten into his stride now.Keeping the warhorse on target with a tight rein, the Rich Kid leveled his lance and brought his opponent into his sights.It was a lovely move, one even I would have been proud to perform. The Blue Knight didn't stand a chance.At least, that was what I thought. But at that moment an extraordinary thing happened. Just as the two knights were about to clash, the black warhorse let out a terrible whinnying screech, arched its back, and crashed headlong into the tournament turf, pitching the Rich Kid high up in the air...and onto theStewart, Paul is the author of 'Joust of Honor A Knights Story', published 2005 under ISBN 9780689872402 and ISBN 0689872402.