Page 136 of The Champion

Raven indicated the stands with his head where Stryder looked to see Alexander running toward him.

Alexander stumbled as he reached them, making Stryder’s horse a bit jumpy.

As Stryder soothed the beast. Raven quickly scooped Alexander up out of harm’s way.

“Careful, bit,” he warned. “Your father’s horse might think you a small mouse to be trampled.”

Alexander was breathing hard as Raven held him up to Stryder. “The Lady Rowena sends you this, Father.”

Alexander handed him a scrap of paper that had something written on it. “She says to tell you that she cannot see you until the last match is won, but to hold that close and then she will read it to you, and you will be overjoyed.”

Stryder hugged Alexander and thanked him.

Raven set him down and the boy ran back for Rowena while Stryder tucked the note into his gauntlet.

“A letter,” Raven scoffed. “You brave life and limb and instead of a kiss, all you get is a worthless piece of paper.” He shook his head. “God spare me the arrow and if Cupid must shoot my heart, then let it kill me.”

Stryder ignored him as he took his lance from Raven’s hand and faced his opponent.

He raced his stallion down the field and unhorsed him on first pass.

Stryder tossed his lance to the ground, then looked back for Rowena.

Her seat was vacant and there was no sign of Alexander anywhere.

Disappointed, he let out a tired breath. No doubt the sight of him bearing a man to the ground was upsetting to her.

Wishing he could spend some time with her, he dismounted and went to wait for his next match.

That night after the jousting had ended, there was no sight of either Alexander or Rowena in the great hall or his tent. All he received was a visit from Fatima telling him that the lady had wanted company tonight, and so, she had kept Alexander in her bed chambers.

So much for sending in his spy...

Damn.

His heart heavy, Stryder pulled his note out and stared at it. Yet again in his life, he wished he could read. Instead, he traced the beautiful script with his finger, wishing Rowena was with him.

Earlier, he had almost asked one of his men to read it for him, but had stopped himself. It might contain something personal. She had said she would read it to him and so he would guard it close until she did.

Aching for her, Stryder lifted the paper to his nose where he caught the faintest whiff of her scent. His body stirred instantly as an image of her in her sheer gown hovered in his mind.

“You are a witch,” he breathed. “Ever tormenting me.”

But she was a witch he loved and, on the morrow, she would be his.

At least, that was what he thought...

The morning dawned brightly. For once, Stryder slept well and when he took the field, Rowena sat in the stands with Alexander. The two of them waved at him.

His heart light, he bore down his next two opponents, and, at the end of the day, it ended just as he thought it would.

Everything came down to him against Damien.

They listened as the heralds called out the results. It was almost over.

Rowena would soon be his and no one would be able to separate them.

Damien reined in his horse beside him and gave him a smug look that not even Damien’s helmet could mask. “Look your last on your lady, Stryder. In a few minutes, she will belong to me.”