"And was the lance blunted?"
"Aye."
Grateful her brother had not done anythingfoolish,Leila focused her attention on the field as anotherset of twelve knights rode toward the pavilion. Her heart skipped a beat whenshe spied Guy among them, but what startled her even more was that Roger was inthis group.
Matilda had also noticed. "What is this? LordGervaisis jousting again? How can this be, my lord? Eachman was to joust in only one match today."
John shook his head in disgust. "Gervaissomehow managed to persuade Guy's opponent to giveup his place. Probably by threat of life and limb, I'd wager."
"But can he do this? What of the rules?"
"The rules allow a replacement if consent is givenby all, and Guy has consented, I think out of anger for what happened toRaymond. When Margaret and I arrived at the deWarennetent, we found him incensed. He claims Roger did not wait for the signal thesecond time around, but gained a lead on Raymond which gave him an unfairadvantage. I did not see this, but who can say?"
"Oh dear," Matilda said as the knights beganto form into pairs in front of the royal box. "Just listen to the crowd.'Tisthe favored match they'vebeen awaiting, and two days earlier than expected."
Matilda was right, Leila thought, her head whirlingfrom the clamor. The throng of spectators was going wild. Some people were evenjumping over the fence to get closer to the lists, but the king's men-at-armswere catching them and throwing them back. Was this melee erupting simplybecause Guy and Roger were both champions at the joust, or was it due to themutual enmity they made no effort to hide? Perhaps the crowd expected more thana joust from these men. Perhaps they expected a duel to the death.
Cold fear gripped her throat at this grim realization,her thoughts running away with her.
Dear God, what if Roger's skill with the lance provedsuperior and Guywaskilled in this match?
The next moments passed in a haze as the master of thejoust confirmed the change in opponents. It was only when the knights fannedout to receive theirtokens,Guy halting hisdestrierright in front of her, that Leila felt a morepoignant emotion.
Was this the last time she would ever look into hiseyes? Would she ever again feel his powerful arms around her, the warmth of hiskiss?
"Leila, you're holding up the match," Blanchehissed in her ear. "Everybody is waiting. Give him your face veil."
Leila started, Blanche's words reminding her of herdefiant plan. "I cannot," she murmured shakily, but loud enough forGuy to hear. "I would have nothing else with which to cover my face. Iwill not compromise my beliefs for this barbaric sport."
A shocked gasp went up from Blanche and the spectatorssurrounding her, but everyone grew still when Guy pressed his hand over hisheart. His voice was muffled behind the helmet, but it clearly held humor.
"By all means, my love, save your beauty for myeyes alone. Your devotion pleases me."
That was hardly the angry response she had expected todraw for her slight, Leila thought with vexation as he dug his heels into hiswar-horse and thundered to the nearest list where Roger was already waiting forhim.
This time the crowd did not fall silent. The cheeringrose to a fever pitch as the master of the joust raised the golden banner,thendropped it.
Leila's irritationfled,herheart hammering. She had the strangest sensation that events were happening inslow motion. Paying no heed to the other jousting knights, she watched numblyas Guy and Roger bore down upon each other, lances lowered, drawing closer andcloser, then the familiar thwacks rang out followed by the sound of splittingwood.
"God's bones, they've both broken their lances!"John blustered loudly.
Leila felt a tightness in her chest as Guy rodeunharmed to the opposite end of the list. He sharply wheeled his war-horse andtook up the new lance handed to him by his squire. How long would this madnesscontinue?shewondered, her throat so dry she couldbarely swallow.
She sat on the edge of the bench as the banner was liftedand held high for what seemed an interminable moment, the master of the joustwaiting for the victors and unseated knights to leave the field. Now there wereonly two opponents left in the lists—RogerGervaisand Guy deWarenne. All eyes were focused on them asthe banner fell again.
The lances broke twice more. A fierce tension seemed tohold everyone in its grip. Leila did not think she could bear to watch anymore,and she stared blindly at her lap, listening to the master of the joust bellowabove the din.
"This is the final run! If there is no clearvictor, the match will be declared a draw."
"Leila, you're going to miss it," Blanchesaid. "Look, they're charging!"
With great reluctance, Leila lifted her head in time towish she hadn't. Her eyes grew wide with horror as Guy was knocked violentlyfrom the saddle and landed flat on his stomach.
Several moments passed. When he did not make theslightest motion to rise, a rumbling of disbelief rose from the crowd. Thefavored champion was down. Maybe injured. Maybe worse. Some bystanders began toleap the fence and race toward the first list, as did mounted deWarenneknights who had been watching from the sidelines.
"No," Leila murmured, her heartbeat poundinglike thunder in her ears. "No!" Guy couldn't be . . .
Sherose,almost unaware shewas doing so, dodging Blanche who tried to grab her arm, and hurried paststunned lords and ladies to the stairs leading to the field.
