occur to her that her
brothers and de Moray were on opposite teams. Pondering the dilemma, Summer's
attention was drawn to the perimeter of the field opposite the lodges. Even
with the multitude of men and horses milling about, the squires and stable
hands and grooms and servants scurrying to and fro, still, she found herself
drawn to a particular figure making his way toward the eastern siege line.
"Look, Summer!" Genisa's
high-pitched voice startled her. "There is Sir Bose. See him? Over there,
on the massive black charger."
If only to quiet the woman,
Summer nodded her head sharply. But Genisa, too, seemed to be entranced with de
Moray’s appearance and she poked a finger in his direction.
"He is hardly wearing any
trappings, as the other knights do," she said. "No plumes or fanciful
helms. Only his banner across his charger's haunches. In every competition I
have ever seen him in, his dress is always the same. He is much more
understated than the rest."
"Mayhap he doesn't wish to
draw attention to himself," Summer said quietly, her heart thumping against
her ribs with the thrill of seeing de Moray. "He seemed rather understated
today, when we met."
Genisa shrugged faintly,
reclining against the cushioned chair. "I have never met him before, to be
truthful, nor heard much about him. Today was the first Stephan has truly
spoken in depth of him."
Mercifully, the woman quieted
herself and Summer was permitted to gaze openly at the distant knight
uninterrupted. She observed every fluid motion of his massive arms, bringing
about his shield emblazoned with the mighty Gorgon crest and poising it over
his left knee. There were three other knights from his house competing on his team,
and the men seemed to swarm about him when they noticed his presence. A little
man on the ground handed him his lance and he collected it easily, a great
black and white spiral pole.
Summer watched, enthralled by the
only knight she had ever met aside from her brothers, until Genisa once again
screeched in her ear.
"Summer!" she burst.
"Look; the herald is taking the field. The game is about to
commence."
Rubbing her ear where Genisa had
nearly punctured the drum, Summer noted that indeed the herald was taking the
field. On her left side, Edward leaned close.
"See the sword in the man's
hand?" he gestured to the red and white clad servant. "That is my
sword. Grandfather fought on the Lion Heart's crusade with that weapon."
Summer recognized the sword; it
held a decorative place of honor above the massive heart in the main hall.
Edward, sensing his daughter's excitement, took her hand and squeezed it
tightly in an extremely rare show of encouragement. In spite of the surprise of
the uncommon display, Summer gripped her father's hand with natural ease,
smiling happily at him as the herald demanded readiness from the opposing
sides. All visors went down in varying order in answer to the herald's demand,
indicative of the combatant's state of preparedness. As several other heralds
positioned themselves about the arena in preparation for refereeing the event,
the primary herald held the sword high.
"In the king's name, do your
battle!"
The sword came down. With a roar
that made Summer's hair stand on end, dozens of lances came down from their
upright positions and hovered parallel to the ground, pointing menacingly at
the men on the opposite side of the field. The thunder of chargers filled the
air as spurs dug deep into the sides of the beasts, urging them on to victory.
Great clumps of earth were kicked up by the excited steeds, pelting the
spectators who happened to be standing too close.
Summer hadn't realized she had
let out a small cry as the opposing waves of knights crashed into one another
in a great roar of flesh and metal. Poles snapped, sending colored pieces of
wood hurling into the air as the grunts and shouts of men in mock-battle
penetrated the damp sea air. A few men were felled in the initial clash before
they had scarcely
brothers and de Moray were on opposite teams. Pondering the dilemma, Summer's
attention was drawn to the perimeter of the field opposite the lodges. Even
with the multitude of men and horses milling about, the squires and stable
hands and grooms and servants scurrying to and fro, still, she found herself
drawn to a particular figure making his way toward the eastern siege line.
"Look, Summer!" Genisa's
high-pitched voice startled her. "There is Sir Bose. See him? Over there,
on the massive black charger."
If only to quiet the woman,
Summer nodded her head sharply. But Genisa, too, seemed to be entranced with de
Moray’s appearance and she poked a finger in his direction.
"He is hardly wearing any
trappings, as the other knights do," she said. "No plumes or fanciful
helms. Only his banner across his charger's haunches. In every competition I
have ever seen him in, his dress is always the same. He is much more
understated than the rest."
"Mayhap he doesn't wish to
draw attention to himself," Summer said quietly, her heart thumping against
her ribs with the thrill of seeing de Moray. "He seemed rather understated
today, when we met."
Genisa shrugged faintly,
reclining against the cushioned chair. "I have never met him before, to be
truthful, nor heard much about him. Today was the first Stephan has truly
spoken in depth of him."
Mercifully, the woman quieted
herself and Summer was permitted to gaze openly at the distant knight
uninterrupted. She observed every fluid motion of his massive arms, bringing
about his shield emblazoned with the mighty Gorgon crest and poising it over
his left knee. There were three other knights from his house competing on his team,
and the men seemed to swarm about him when they noticed his presence. A little
man on the ground handed him his lance and he collected it easily, a great
black and white spiral pole.
Summer watched, enthralled by the
only knight she had ever met aside from her brothers, until Genisa once again
screeched in her ear.
"Summer!" she burst.
"Look; the herald is taking the field. The game is about to
commence."
Rubbing her ear where Genisa had
nearly punctured the drum, Summer noted that indeed the herald was taking the
field. On her left side, Edward leaned close.
"See the sword in the man's
hand?" he gestured to the red and white clad servant. "That is my
sword. Grandfather fought on the Lion Heart's crusade with that weapon."
Summer recognized the sword; it
held a decorative place of honor above the massive heart in the main hall.
Edward, sensing his daughter's excitement, took her hand and squeezed it
tightly in an extremely rare show of encouragement. In spite of the surprise of
the uncommon display, Summer gripped her father's hand with natural ease,
smiling happily at him as the herald demanded readiness from the opposing
sides. All visors went down in varying order in answer to the herald's demand,
indicative of the combatant's state of preparedness. As several other heralds
positioned themselves about the arena in preparation for refereeing the event,
the primary herald held the sword high.
"In the king's name, do your
battle!"
The sword came down. With a roar
that made Summer's hair stand on end, dozens of lances came down from their
upright positions and hovered parallel to the ground, pointing menacingly at
the men on the opposite side of the field. The thunder of chargers filled the
air as spurs dug deep into the sides of the beasts, urging them on to victory.
Great clumps of earth were kicked up by the excited steeds, pelting the
spectators who happened to be standing too close.
Summer hadn't realized she had
let out a small cry as the opposing waves of knights crashed into one another
in a great roar of flesh and metal. Poles snapped, sending colored pieces of
wood hurling into the air as the grunts and shouts of men in mock-battle
penetrated the damp sea air. A few men were felled in the initial clash before
they had scarcely
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