Kevin knew she was saying that because Victor was standing right behind her, watching the exchange. It angered Kevin to see how coldly Victor had spoken to her and how, even now, he was looking at her as if she did not belong here. Kevin reached out a massive gloved hand and took the delicate silk purse.
“This is perfect, my lady,” he assured her. “I carry the most unique favor of all. Thank you.”
With that, he lowered his visor and spurred his excitable charger off towards the east where his group was gathered. Annavieve watched him for a moment before realizing that everyone else was probably watching her, too. Self-conscious, and fearful that her expression gave away her feelings for the big knight, she quickly reclaimed her seat between Salisbury and Vietta.
As Annavieve had suspected, William and Vietta were indeed watching her, each for a different reason. William suspected that there was more than met the eye between the new duchess and the powerful knight, eyeing the woman to see if he could confirm his suspicions in her expression. Vietta, however, reached over the wall of the box that divided them and clasped Annavieve on the arm.
“Who was that?” she wanted to know. “He is most handsome. Does he serve your husband?”
William heard her. Before Annavieve could answer, he spoke. “He does indeed, my lady,” he said. “His name is Sir Kevin Hage and he has recently returned to England from fighting the infidels in the Levant. You must have your father approach him on your behalf.”
Annavieve struggled not to react. She had liked William a great deal until this moment. Now, he was trying to marry Kevin off and she wasn’t happy, not in the least. But she didn’t dare say a word to the contrary. Instead, she forced a smile and nodded to William’s statement.
“I do not know if he is pledged,” she said, now wanting to scratch Vietta’s eyes out as she gazed longingly at Kevin. “He seems like a very fine knight.”
Vietta, thoughts of Kevin Hage filling her head, watched as the groups began assembling on the field before them.
“What do you know of him?” Vietta demanded.
Annavieve didn’t want to tell her anything but was forced to answer the question purely out of politeness. “He has only recently returned from the Levant, as Lord William said,” she replied. “He is very formal. He does not speak much. He… he seems to have a bad reputation, however.”
Vietta looked at her with surprise. “Why?” she asked. “What has he done?”
Annavieve saw this as an opportunity to turn the woman off of Kevin’s scent. “I have heard that he is a killer,” she said, lowering her voice. “The king himself has said he has killed hundreds of men. Mayhap even thousands. He is terrifying and deadly at times. Why, the man is positively frightening.”
Unfortunately for Annavieve, that didn’t deter Vietta in the least. In fact, she seemed to like the fact that Kevin had a violent reputation. “I will have my father speak with him,” she said decisively. “Mayhap he will have some interest in being married into the House of de Lohr. Would that not be wonderful?”
Annavieve had to sit on her hands lest she wrap them around the giddy woman’s throat. She’d never known jealousy before so this entire experience was something quite new. All she could do was nod, having no idea what more to say. But she managed to point at the field.
“Have you been to many tournaments before?” she asked, desperate to change the subject before she went on a jealous rampage. “This is my very first one. What will happen now?”
Successfully diverted from lustful thoughts of Kevin Hage, Vietta returned her attention to the field. “It is all very exciting,” she said. “These two groups of men will charge at each other shortly, as they would if this were a real and true battle. They call the charge theestor. You will hear a trumpet sound and then they will all run at each other. Those who are still seated on their horses after the first pass will then try to capture those who were unseated. Once unseated, a knight is not allowed to regain his horse.”
Annavieve was listening intently. “How long will this go on?”
Vietta shrugged. “Papa and I were at a tournament in Nottingham last year and the mass went on for three days,” she said. “Men were chased around for miles. It was all very chaotic. The marshals finally had to call a halt because they had lost track of most things.”
Annavieve grinned. “So this could go on for days?”
“It is possible.”
They returned their focus to the field before them, now with two teams of men facing each other across a wide expanse of grass. There were at least twenty-five men to a team, all of them mounted on heavy-boned chargers or rounceys, all of them armed to the teeth. Whatever was about to happen, they took it all very seriously. There was the potential for a great deal of money at stake and being that this was a well-attended tourney, the bigger houses had brought with them the bigger knights. It promised to be a bloodbath.
Annavieve’s gaze drifted over to Kevin’s group again and she could see him, right in the front, astride the fat roan with the cropped tail. He looked positively fearsome and she tried to keep an even expression as she gazed at him. She was terrified forhim but she was also quite excited; to see the man in his element would truly be something to behold. Vietta, however, had been to many tournaments and didn’t hold the same excitement, so she continued to speak on things she had seen at previous tournaments such as men who had been badly injured or the camp followers her mother refused to let her even look at. It was all quite scandalous and humorous, and Annavieve found herself laughing in spite of everything.
The truth was that Vietta was a sweet woman and Annavieve was bonding with her. She’d never had a real friend before and imagined this must be the very first time. At least, she hoped so. It was very nice to have someone to talk to. But those friendly thoughts vanished when a trumpet sounded over by the eastern end of the field and a deafening roar went up from the crowd. Startled, with her heart in her throat, Annavieve watched the two sides charge at each other at blinding speed. When they clashed, it was like watching violent waves crash against rocks.
The sound was sickening. Men fell, horses reared, and very shortly, all things were in chaos.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
This is horrificallyviolent.
Five minutes into the catastrophic upheaval known as the mass competition, Annavieve already hated it. Men were being beaten within an inch of their lives by other knights bearing clubs, as broadswords or other sharp instruments were forbidden. Clubs and sticks, however, were not. There were many men swinging clubs quite gleefully at others. It was, essentially, a massive brawl.
Annavieve hadn’t known what she had expected, exactly, of such an event, but a giant fight hadn’t really been among her thoughts. Men on horseback were circling around, grabbing men who were on foot, sometimes clubbing them and then dragging them off where men not involved in the fight would corral them. Unhappy knights sat on the ground, being watched over by squires.
And this included anyone that Kevin managed to capture. Annavieve never took her gaze off of him; he was still mounted on that fat-arsed roan. He’d made it through the initialestorand was now one of those predators riding amongst those who were still on the ground. Even the men on the ground were fighting each other in organized gangs, using their clubs and fists toknock opponents to the ground. Once a man was down, he was not allowed to get to his feet again. He had to remain there and try to evade capture. The writhing mass of men was full of knights on the ground, trying to crawl to freedom.
