“You completely knocked him from his horse!” Gilbert exclaimed, clumsily slamming his shoulder into Julian’s back. “I can’t believe it.” The lances leaned heavily to one side, and Gilbert released the reins to steady them with two hands.
Julian shook his head. “I told you I would win.” He grabbed the shield from Gilbert and put a hand on his shoulder to help steady him.
Gilbert pushed the helmet up so he could look at Julian. “But in the first pass?”
Julian glanced across the field toward Osmont, watching as he threw his helmet into the dust and stomped his foot. Apparently, Osmont was not ready for the defeat.
“He’s not pleased,” Baldwin stated, following Julian’s gaze.
“No. I would say he is not.” Warmth rushed through Julian’s body, and he stood a little straighter. It had given Julian immense gratification to see Osmont lying in the dirt. He should have protected his right side. Julian had seen the flaw in his style of riding a long time ago.
Julian looked down at the shield and noticed a scrap mark where Osmont’s lance had slid from the wood. A prideful grin touched his lips. It had taken him years to save up enough coin to enter this one joust. But now, the prize from this win was big enough to enter a grand tourney finally. One of the biggest. One that welcomed all comers. No amount of excitement would surpass taking part in that joust. He knew the man he wanted to face, the one knight he wanted to defeat, would be at Lord Yves’s Tournament.
An undefeated champion, Sir Edward of Kingston.
Gilbert elbowed Julian, snapping him out of his reverie. “Do you know what this means?”
Julian bobbed his head. “We win the coin.”
“We eat like royalty!” Gilbert exclaimed, rubbing his stomach. “Women, drink! The world is ours!”
Baldwin’s scowl was back. “Or we purchase a suit of armor worthy of a victor, one that will help win other tournaments.”
Julian heard them, but neither was his plan. “Or we enter Lord Yves’s tournament.”
Gilbert’s pout now matched Baldwin’s. “You still have that stuck in your head, do you? I thought after all these years of practice and casting aside your noble birth that you would have forgotten that plan.”
Julian stared ahead at the road back to their camp. He had always looked to the future, always had one goal. One plan. To be the best jouster. To defeat Sir Edward of Kingston.
“Lord, Julian! Sir Edward is an undefeated champion! You haven’t a prayer against him. He’s more experienced than you,” Gilbert sputtered, reluctant to abandon his dream of endless nights filled with food and women. “He certainly has more coin. Better armor, a better shield, a better horse.”
“Don’t drag Storm into this. He’s an excellent horse,” Julian defended.
Storm tossed his head and nickered as if in agreement.
Gilbert clutched the reins tighter and shifted the lances in his arm. “Why not enjoy what you’ve won here? Why not enjoy the day?”
Julian looked at the field of honor as if his fate were written there. “Because I can beat him. I’ve watched him. I’ve analyzed his riding, his jousting, every flaw he has. I will defeat him.” He turned to Gilbert, laying his hands on his shoulders. “Imagine the coin then! All the food to fill your pudgy little stomach.” He jokingly rubbed Gilbert’s round stomach. “And the women? Who could resist us?” He locked an arm about Gilbert’s neck. “When I win, the world will be ours!”
Gilbert rolled his eyes, sighed softly, and nodded.
“But if you lose, you’ll have nothing,” Baldwin interjected. “Are you willing to risk that? To risk everything?”
“Absolutely! This is the first time in my life that I am confident about the future. I have the coin to enter. I have the skill. I have the desire. Nothing will stop me from achieving my victory. Nothing.”
Chapter Two
Kingston Castle
Kingston, England
The Great Hall was filled with noblesdressed in fine silk, seated at long wooden tables dining on metal plates filled with steaming venison. Soft murmuring echoed from wall to wall, interweaving with the pleasant notes of the harp musician. Large, vaulted ceilings rose high above. Colorful tapestries lined the stone walls depicting epic battles as well as scenes of courtly love. Against one wall, a hearth housed a warm, crackling fire.
From the raised dais at the head of the room, Lady Elora of Kingston looked out apathetically over the expansive hall. All these nobles. All these knights. She sighed heavily as hushed laughter erupted from a table to her left, drawing her attention. She felt as if they were laughing at her, even though the notion was ridiculous.
Her wistful gaze dropped to her untouched venison. She wondered briefly, if she hurried and ate all of it, could she leave?
Her brother, Lord Edward, sat at her right. He was an opposing man with short blond hair and a stature that demanded respect. His straight nose and square jaw were a testament to his impressive lineage. He wore a blue bliaut that fell to the floor in thick volumes of fabric, with a thin golden embroidery of leaves along the edges of his long sleeves.
