Chivalrous by Dina L. Sleiman

proven sadly uneventful. Not a single highwayman, nor even a grumpy boar, to thwart his path. Weeks passed idly by as he and his destrier, a gift from Lord Linden along with his armor, made their way across the unending countryside and through the craggy mountain passes.
    At last the vast city of Edendale, North Britannia’s prize jewel, spread across the valley before him, its pale stone walls glistening against a backdrop of green trees and blue sky in the early fall sunshine. Tall buildings stood at alert all around the soaring castle in the center. A colorful profusion of tents surrounded the city like lesser gems spilling across the verdant lawn.
    The road had grown more congested as he approached, and now he understood why. The city teemed with life. From this distance the press of bodies melted into a single writhing serpent flowing through the streets. Although he always enjoyedthe company of others, the sight of such crowds pulled him up short not a furlong from his destination.
    As he gazed down over the city, a retinue galloped past with banners waving in the breeze. They wound their way down the ribbon of road toward his goal. The Jerusalem to his pilgrimage.
    But at this very last moment, he himself paused and knelt. Closing his eyes, he offered up a silent prayer. Father God, I have done my best to follow your plans in coming to this place. Help me to serve the duke well and to use my skills to protect the weak and the needy. Allow me to find a place here where I truly belong, and—
    â€œWhatever are you doing?” A high-pitched young voice jolted him from his petition.
    Allen turned just as a peasant woman in rough, grimy garb boxed a little boy along the ear and tugged him in her wake. “Now what ’ave I told ye about children keepin’ their mouths shut. Botherin’ a fine knight, of all people. Lord ’ave mercy upon your soul. Pray, forgive us, good sir.”
    Allen chuckled. He moved to rumple the lad’s blond hair. “No offense taken. But perhaps, if you would be so kind, you might answer a few questions for me.”
    â€œOf course.” She pulled up from her slumped position and straightened her tunic with a gap-toothed grin. “I’d be ’appy to serve ye.”
    â€œIs it always so crowded in the city?” he asked with a bit of trepidation, waving his hand in the direction of Edendale. How could he make a place for himself in such a vast throng of humanity?
    â€œNo sir, ’tis the tournament tomorrow that draws so many.”
    He brightened at that. “A tournament, you say?”
    â€œIndeed. The duke and duchess are fond of tournaments. This one is to celebrate the new peace in England. I ’ear tellbefore long the young king shall tour in this direction, and no doubt we shall celebrate again.”
    Tingles washed through Allen. He could not believe his good fortune. “And is this tournament open to all?”
    She scratched her head at that. “As far as I know. Though not many ’ave the armor and trainin’ to fight.”
    He sighed. “But alas, I shall never find a team to join on such short notice.” Allen’s newfound excitement fled him.
    Eyeing him up and down, she said, “You’re not from around these parts, are ye?”
    â€œNo, mistress, I am not.”
    â€œThe tournaments in North Britannia are fought by single knights. Joustin’ mostly.”
    So not the melee style used throughout the rest of England. Likely he would face many new traditions in this new place. And just that quickly, excitement filled him again. “I am so glad we spoke. Could you offer me any advice if I wish to participate?”
    â€œYe shan’t find accommodations in the city on a day like this, but all are welcome to camp in the valley and make use of the stream to the north, and ye can go through the gates durin’ the day to purchase provisions. Ye must enter the tournament right and proper