She cried all the harder. The two men spoke a moment, then walked toward the stand, with Zander supporting her father, who was limping badly now. They positioned themselves in front of Lord Yves.
Zander looked their host right in the eyes. “We both forfeit.”
Lord Yves stared back at him. “You can’t do that. A challenge to the death only ends when someone is dead.”
“We also both stand down.”
“It isn’t done that way. Sir Alexander, do you want to be known as the coward he called you?”
Her father straightened enough to look less pained. “About that. I retract it. That day isn’t so clear in my mind, what with being wounded and barely conscious. I’ve had some memories come back to me that say I was not abandoned as I thought. So, I forfeit for certain, and stand down as he said.” He looked over at Zander. “No need for you to as well.”
“I am not blameless regarding your accusations. I was not a coward, but I should have done more to stop you. Tied you up or hit you over the head.”
“Well now, I don’t know about hitting me over—”
“Enough.” Lord Yves gazed out at the crowd, who waited for him to speak. He speared her father with a glare. “Be more careful before you ask for combatà l'outrance.It creates expectations. Now I am the one who has to explain this to them.”
“If you do so quickly, the next challenge can start, and maybe someone will get killed in that one,” Elinor suggested.
Lord Yves seemed to agree. While her father and Zander walked down the field together, Lord Yves announced that both men had stood down and Sir Hugo had admitted a mistake in his accusation. Then he signaled for the marshal to move on to the next challenge.
Elinor waited until Lord Yves stopped talking before she excused herself from his company and ran from the stand.
She caught up with her father easily on his way through the camps, now empty due to their inhabitants watching the last challenge. He led the horse by its reins but appeared relieved to see her. He leaned on her hard while he hobbled along with the war horse breathing on their necks. She guessed that bruises were rising beneath his hauberk and leg mail.
She enjoyed every step even if he didn’t. Lightness entered her spirit and she could not stop smiling. What had promised to be a horrible day had instead become beautiful.
“I’ve succeeded in one thing at this tourney, at least, even if I have no spoils,” her father said. “I’ve found you a husband.”
“Sir Gerwant?”
“I’m very pleased with myself on that.”
They walked a few more paces. “Father, I do not want to disobey you, but you need to know that I will kill myself before I marry that man.”
He stopped and looked at her. She met his gaze squarely.
He shook his head. “You really are turning shrewish, daughter. I suppose I could beat you into agreement, but somehow I don’t think you would stand down even then.”
She noticed his leg had become very weak. She put her arm around him to help more. “There is another thing I must be shrewish about.”
“More? Saints preserve me.”
“Whatever Sir Gerwant and Sir Lionel have been trying to lure you into doing—”
“Nobody’s been luring me. I can’t be lured.”
“Whatever it is, you must swear to me now you will not do it. Today’s combat was enough risk for this year and next, I think.”
He made a face. He began to object. Then he shook his head again. “I suppose I can miss the adventure if you insist on it.”
“I do.”
“Means going back to that cottage and eating more soup.”
“Right now that sounds wonderful to me.”
Before going to their tent he brought the horse to a tent in the nearby encampments. She helped him remove the saddle, and they left it there for a squire or groom to tend.
