Elora’s insides twisted. She couldn’t look at Edward. Truth be told, she could not tear her gaze from Sir Julian. He had surprised them all by landing a strike to Mace. There were only two more passes, two more chances for Julian to win.
The squires rushed out to their knights and handed them new lances. The opponents urged their destriers forward for another pass, thundering down the field.
Elora clasped her hands and placed them beneath her chin as if praying. And perhaps she was.
The steeds charged down the list toward each other. The lances came down, angled, and positioned across the horse’s neck. Sir Julian leaned forward.
Elora held her breath, her back straightening, drawing her up to witness the impact.
The lances struck with a loud thunk, splintering. The force of the blow to Mace’s shoulder spun him sideways and off his horse. He hit the ground, his foot stuck in the stirrup, and his steed dragged him through the dust across the field.
Elora gasped.
The horse galloped to Mace’s side of the field, where his squire put up his arms to stop the animal. When it came to a halt, he raced over to Mace and unhooked the stirrup, freeing Mace’s leg.
Elora waited. She had only thought about an injury to Sir Julian because she believed Mace would win. Now, she hoped Mace was not hurt. He lay in the dirt for a long moment. Elora tilted her head to see better, praying he would rise.
Finally, Mace sat up. He shook his head hard before climbing unsteadily to his feet and waving to the crowd.
Elora clapped with trembling hands. He was not hurt. Her gaze shifted to Julian, where he sat atop his brown horse. That meant only one thing…
“The winner, Sir Julian!” the Grand Marshall declared.
Her skin tingled as she spread her fingers over her chest. He had won! Admiration warmed her breast. A spattering of surprised applause erupted from the stands and the spectators. She caught Bethany’s incredulous stare. And then, Bethany’s sly gaze focused on Julian like a predator’s would.
Elora hurried from the stands with Sarah while Edward waited for Mace. He wasn’t happy that an unknown knight had beaten his friend.
The two women rushed onto the road into the town. As they walked, Elora said with a wide grin, “Tell me everything.” She couldn’t hide her excitement. This knight, this Sir Julian, had defeated Mace!
“I know little about him,” Sarah admitted. “Not too many have heard of him.”
A mysterious knight. Elora’s curiosity was piqued. “Maybe he is not a skilled knight. Maybe he was defeated in the jousts he’s competed in. Maybe that’s why no one has heard of him.”
Sarah raised her eyebrow in disbelief. “Do you really believe that?”
Elora shook her head. She couldn’t imagine that, not after seeing him joust with Mace. “What did they say about him?”
Sarah shrugged. “The only thing Martin knew was that Sir Julian is very determined. He said he challenged every knight here that he could.”
“Every knight?” Elora echoed. She twirled a strand of blonde hair thoughtfully. Sir Julian had saved them. Then, he’d knocked Mace from his horse and won the joust. Oh, she wanted to know more about this knight. She sighed softly, letting the lock of hair fall from her fingers. Perchance she was too interested in this knight. Perchance she should concentrate on finding a husband before Edward thrust one upon her.
Sarah yanked gently on her hand to get her attention. “Sir Julian went back to his camp. Most of the other knights are at the joust.Edwardis at the joust.”
Elora looked at Sarah with a confused scowl. “What are you saying?”
“I still have the traveling cloak.”
Elora glanced back at the fields and all the people around them. She gently chewed on her lower lip.
“I’ll go with you,” Sarah enticed.
The last time they’d gone somewhere alone together, they had been caught up in a brawl. It didn’t seem wise. And yet, she wanted to see the knight. She wanted to thank him. She wanted to congratulate him on his advancement in the tournament. But mostly, she wanted to find out more about him.
She couldn’t resist.
Chapter Eight
“Grrr,” Julian growled at a small, bright-eyed boy in an area beside his tent. After the joust, he had discovered the child, a boy from Gracious Hill named Adam, following him. He showed the child how to hold the stick like a sword, and now they crossed sticks in a battle for the town. “Come on, ya crooked nosed knave!”
