Osmont’s smile slipped. “I was a child then. Surely, you do not hold that against me.” He turned to watch a servant girl who passed them.
“Children play games; they do not torture animals or girls.”
“I am a man now, and I can guarantee you I do not torture animals or girls.”
“Really? Then tell me what you were doing to that poor servant girl in the corridor.” Osmont’s grin disappeared completely, and Elora knew she’d hit the mark. “She looked terrified.” They stopped walking when they reached the first table below the dais where Lord Yves would eat. Elora looked at Osmont; her chin raised in disdain. “Abusive little boys grow into abusive little men.”
Osmont’s gaze raked her face, and his lip curled. He bowed slightly before returning to his rowdy group of friends.
Edward came up beside her. “Osmont is quite a character.”
Elora didn’t reply. He was less than a character. She took a seat at the table, and Edward sat beside her. His friends settled themselves all around them. Osmont sat farther down the table. For that, Elora was grateful.
When Julian finished practicing, he and Baldwin returned to the tent to find Gilbert lounging against a tree as he cleaned the weapons. Julian sat beside Gilbert, taking the ale sack, uncorking it, and raising it to his lips. He drank deeply and handed it to Baldwin. “How many knights struck my shield?” Julian asked with barely bridled enthusiasm.
Gilbert glanced at Baldwin and then continued rubbing the sword he held with a cloth. “None.”
“None?” Julian repeated, cocking his head. He slapped his palms against his thighs. “How can that be?”
“You can’t let that bother you, Julian,” Baldwin explained patiently. “This is the first eve. Not all the knights have arrived.”
“You’ve only won one tournament,” Gilbert added. “Hardly a challenge for the other knights.”
Julian shot to his feet. He swept his hand across the field where pavilions of all colors dotted the landscape, and banners with heraldry flapped in the small breeze. “There’s enough here thatoneshould have challenged me! Are they afraid?”
Baldwin scratched his head, and his eyebrows rose. “More likely, uninterested.”
Julian grimaced. He shook his head and paced, muttering, “This is unacceptable.” How was he to participate in the joust without any challengers? He paused and pursed his lips. He walked to his horse and mounted.
Gilbert stood up.
“Where are you going?” Baldwin asked.
“I am going to the tree of shields. If they won’t challenge me, then I will challenge them. Every one of them.”
Chapter Four
Unable to sleep, Elora rose earlythe next morning. She ran to the window, flung wide the thick drapes, and pushed open the shutters. The light of the early sun filtered in softly, bathing her face in warmth. Finally! The market would be open. Vendors and merchants of all sorts would line the streets with their wares. Of course, she was not allowed to go without an escort. Edward would be even more unhappy if he knew the real reason for her visit, which was why she and Sarah had to sneak out in every town they visited.
She scoured the markets for unique additions to her knives and dagger collection. What proper woman would want such a collection? She grinned to herself. She would never give up her interest. It reminded her of the wonderful time she’d spent with her father. She cherished every moment they had spent talking about her blades. She had always been grateful to the boy in the field who had suggested she bond with him over daggers. She didn’t remember what he looked like but often imagined him as her true knight.
She paced the room, waiting impatiently for Sarah, her mind wandering excitedly over the different types of blades she might find at the market. When the door opened, and Sarah entered, Elora asked quickly, “Did you bring it?”
Sarah smiled, nodding her head. She held up a brown cotton riding cloak. “Of course.”
Elora eagerly took the plain cloak from her, donned it, and pulled the hood up over her head. Edward never rose early, so Elora was not concerned he would find her gone. She planned to be back before the morning meal.
They hurried through the castle and out into the courtyard. They skirted knights riding their steeds and a caravan of arriving guests. A group of children raced by them as a merchant chased them with a raised stick. A servant walked quickly as he carried two buckets of sloshing water. The ting of the blacksmith echoed through the ward. The portcullis was raised, and the gates were open to the town.
They entered the streets of Gracious Hill and made their way toward the center where the market was, avoiding the path of carts being pulled by villagers and merchants, and the horses ridden by knights.
As they neared the start of the market, calls from the vendors echoed through the dirt streets.
“Candles!”
“Fresh bread!”
Elora pushed the side of her hood back, so she could see better. Farther down the street, the crowd thickened. They paused at an intersection. Elora wrung her hands and stood on her toes to peer about. Murmured talking hummed through the market. The delicious scent of freshly made bread wafted to her, making her mouth water. Lining the sides of the streets were wagons with items ranging from fresh vegetables to expensive fabrics. Some sellers had placed blankets on the ground to organize their wares. Knights and villagers moved through the streets from cart to cart, eyeing the displays.
