“No, Tad!” Arissa emerged from behind Richmond. “That staff is no protection against his sword!”
Tad glared at her. “You started this, and I shall end it,” his hostile gaze came to rest on Richmond as he tightened his leather gloves. “You are an idiot, old man. How dare you provoke my wrath. I shall crumble your ancient bones and grind them into the earth. How easy this shall be!”
Richmond did something then that Arissa had never seen him do. He burst out laughing like a giddy fool, howling until his eyes ran with tears. Arissa stood by, her mouth open in astonishment, as he nearly wept into his hand.
“A priceless statement, my young friend,” he snorted, wiping at his eyes. Taking a deep breath to regain his control, he moved to unsheathe his sword. “It has been a pleasure provoking your wrath.”
A puzzled de Rydal soldier handed Tad a large, leather bound staff. The knight yanked it away savagely, immediately spinning the pole in an expert, controlled fashion. Richmond’s smile faded as he gently pushed Arissa away from him.
“Stand over there, kitten,” he said softly. “This should not take long.”
Eyes wide, Arissa obeyed. Richmond kept his eyes on Tad even as he was aware of her bright green surcoat fading from his line of sight. When the grass-hued garment vanished, he cocked an eyebrow at the young knight.
“Well? Make your move if you must.”
“A rather confident attitude.”
“’Tis I who bear the blade, not a rotting stick.”
Tad stopped twirling the staff, bringing it to bear in a defensive horizontal position. His blue eyes gleamed with menacing delight as he prepared to humiliate one of Henry’s greatest knights.
“Mayhap after this beating you shall leave the fighting to the youngers, le Bec. You are too old for this kind of work.”
The corners of Richmond’s mouth twitched, the threat of a smile pending. He was not about to reply to the insult dealt; he was fully prepared to allow his actions to answer in lieu of pretty words.
Arissa watched the entire event unfold; even so, she would have been unable to describe Richmond’s skill in words. Every phrase that came to mind was far too tame for a man of his considerable talent. Before her disbelieving eyes, an amazing thing happened.
Richmond gave no outward indication that he was preparing to strike; some men were known to crouch, others to twitch, still others to yell. One moment, Richmond was standing stock still; in the next, his blade was sailing towards Tad in a blinding arc and the length of staff extending beyond Tad’s right hand suddenly clattered to the hard dirt. In the next second, Richmond’s blade was sailing through the air once again and the measure of leather-bound wood extending beyond Tad’s left hand was chopped cleanly free. It, too, fell to the ground.
Arissa barely saw Richmond bring the broadsword up in front of Tad, a swift upstroke that cleaved the wooden staff in two equal pieces of kindling. Before she could draw another breath, Tad was left holding two measly sticks where had once been lodged a mighty pole.
Richmond displayed a faint smile at Tad’s astonished expression as he sheathed his weapon. “As you were saying?” he asked drolly.
Tad, jaw slack, gazed at the two pieces of wood in his fisted grasp. His mouth closed and he swallowed hard, focusing Richmond with a look bordering on anger.
“You…. you never gave me a chance,” he stammered. “That was not a fair fight!”
Richmond’s smile vanished. “Fair enough. Since you leave with your life, you may consider it a victory on your part. But know that my mercy only applies once. The next time, I will do far more than make firewood out of your staff.”
Tad dropped the remnants of his weapon. “You would not be so brave if I was bearing a sword, le Bec.”
“But you are not, and I am growing weary of your spoiled antics,” he turned toward Arissa. “Come, my lady. The archery competition is about to begin.”
Shaking with fury, Tad watched Richmond lead Arissa toward the game field. Being humiliated in front of the ladywas bad enough, but being shamed in the presence of his men was a nightmare. He could feel their stares on his back, silently laughing at the arrogant young knight. He knew they thought him to be a fool for challenging Sir Richmond.
Damn le Bec!Certainly, his actions would not go unchallenged. Tad knew that the archery competition was a perfect opportunity to redeem himself in the eyes of Arissa and his men alike. He had signed on as a competitor earlier in the day and was quite confident that he would emerge the victor. Sir Richmond would suffer a taste of his own medicine. Worse, even.
With an angry grunt, Tad kicked aside the pieces of staff and stomped in the direction of the archery field, a distorted sense of vengeance flooding his soul.
He would pay.
*
By the timeArissa and Richmond reached the archery field, the entire area was swarming with excited guests and soldiers. There were no lodges to house the crowd as was usual in competition, so the majority of the audience settled to the north side of the field, forming a semi-circle around the targets constructed for the competitors.
Penelope, Emma and Regine were waiting for her. Richmond silently led her to The Horde, depositing her in the midst of the chatty young ladies. Arissa turned to him, tongue-tied since the moment he had so easily dispatched Tad de Rydal. Truthfully, she was so awed by his display that she hadn’t known what to say.
Richmond met her gaze, a faint smile playing on his lips. “And now, my lady, I shall proceed to win this competition in your honor.”
