Page 5 of Picking Up the Gauntlet

“Because, knowing you, you’d probably choose someone that Father doesn’t approve of,” Rook blurted out. Raven could see in her father’s eyes that this was exactly how he felt.

“Tell me. What do you know about the men who will compete?” she asked. “Mayhap you won’t approve of them either,” Raven pointed out, fighting for her life now.

“Your father has already sent out the missives to all the eligible bachelors this side of the Scottish border, as well as an invite to our connections in France,” explained her mother.

“You mean to all the eligible nobles, don’t you?”

“It’s important that all my children, nephews, and nieces marry nobles,” explained Corbett. “I tried for years to bring back honor to the family name that was sullied by my father, who married the illegitimate daughter of the vicar. You know that. I am finally accepted again by the King and nobles, and I will not risk losing respect once more.”

“So then,” said Raven, her lip quivering as she raised her chin in challenge. “Whoever wins the tournament will win my hand in marriage, no matter who that competitor might be?”

“That’s right,” said Corbett with a nod. “I’m sorry, but this is the way it’s going to be.”

“Then so be it,” said Raven, turning on her heel, already devising a plan in her mind to get around her father’s stupid decision.

Chapter 2

Jonathon Armstrong stopped fixing a dent in the helm and looked up as the bells over the door to the blacksmith shop jangled and two men entered the outer room.

“Lords Blake,” he said, surprised to see Lord Corbett Blake and his son, Rook, at his shop, since he’d just repaired their armor recently. He put down his hammer and the helm, quickly wiping his hands with a rag. Without removing his leather apron, he hurried away from the forge and over to greet the nobles.

Jonathon’s family’s shop was visited by the nobles often. He not only made and fixed armor, but was a skilled swordsmith, too. Since there was no blacksmith in town, he and his father handled large as well as small and menial jobs.

Jonathon spent years as an apprentice learning the skills of the forge until he worked his way up to journeyman and returned home. Now, he’d put in his time and all that was keeping him from being a master at his trade was completing one impressive masterpiece that would earn him the respect of the guild. If so, they would accept him and he’d hopefully gain his title of master, just like his father.

Working so much with weapons also gave Jonathon the opportunity to use them on occasion. Over the years, he’d taught himself to fight, and was damned good at it. Many times, Jonathon even hired out his own sword, acting as a mercenary or guard for the nobles when they needed an extra soldier. Even though Jonathon was naught but a commoner, his services were needed in more ways than one. The nobles paid well, making Jonathon’s family the highest paid craftsmen in town.

“Good morning, Jonathon,” said Lord Corbett with a quick nod. His eyes scanned the room. Jonathon realized he wanted to talk in private.

“I’m the only one here right now, my lords,” he assured them. “Did you perhaps wish to speak to my father?”

“Nay, it’s you to whom I wish to speak,” answered Corbett.

Normally there was enough work to keep Jonathon, his father, another journeyman, as well as an apprentice busy. However, lately, the work had slowed and their income suffered greatly because of it.

“I hope you weren’t dissatisfied with my latest repair of your armor.”

“Nay. Not at all,” said Rook. “Your work is exquisite as always.”

Hearing this made Jonathon release a breath of relief that he hadn’t even been aware he’d been holding. The lords Blake and their knights brought much work to Jonathon’s family’s little shop. He would hate to lose business over one dissatisfied noble. Thankfully, that didn’t sound to be the case.

“What brings you to town today?” Jonathon asked curiously. “Do you need me to repair one of your weapons? Or fix a link in your chain mail perhaps?” Jonathon was skilled when it came to the forge. There wasn’t anything he couldn’t do. He served as blacksmith, swordsmith, and armorer, too.

“Nay, we’re here for another reason altogether,” said Rook, moseying around the shop, picking up a hammer and testing its weight.

“My lords?” asked Jonathon, not understanding what they wanted.

“I have a tournament planned in three weeks’ time,” Corbett informed him. “There will be knights and nobles coming from all over the country.”

“Oh, I see.” Jonathon nodded, thinking he knew what they wanted after all. “I will be ready if any of the competitors need anything, my lord. You know you can count on me.”

“Where is your father?” asked Corbett, looking around the forge.

“He doesn’t work in the forge much anymore since he is getting older, my lord. He usually stays in the rooms above stairs with my mother unless his help is needed.”

“So he’s unable to do the work?”

“Nay, not at all. It’s just that I like to handle the brunt of the work myself. He’s worked hard his whole life, and I’m happy to let him rest and spend more time with my mother.”