Page 33 of Picking Up the Gauntlet

“Then we won’t tell him, will we? Now fight me! Act like a man, not a mouse.” She kept attacking, and he kept defending, but he was holding back and she didn’t like that.

“I’d think you’d know by now that there are no secrets from the lord of the castle,” he told her. “You’d better stop this nonsense because Lord Corbett is heading this way and he doesn’t look happy.”

“I’m not falling for that ploy again,” she spat, not bothering to turn around this time since he was obviously lying, just trying to distract her. “At least try to come up with something different and more believable. For a man who creates things in a forge all day, I’m surprised that you really lack imagination.”

“Raven, listen to him,” called out Lark.

“I’ll not take orders from a mere commoner, Lark.” Raven continued to spar with him, becoming angry that he wasn’t treating her like a true opponent.

“Raven, put down the sword and act like a lady,” came her father’s growl directly from behind her. She groaned inwardly, her eyes snapping up to meet Jonathon’s.

“I told you so,” he said, lowering his sword and bowing as Corbett approached. “Good morning, my lord. My lady,” he added.

“What? Mother is here too?” Raven spun around on her heel to see not only her parents, but also her brother standing next to Lark, glaring at her.

“What is going on here?” asked Lady Devon. “Raven, you know we don’t like you down here at the practice yard. We told you to stop doing this. You’ll be married soon and need to start acting like a proper lady.”

“I’ve been sparring with Jonathon,” she told them. Her eyes flashed over to her personal guard who was slowly shaking his head.

“I’ve only been defending myself against your daughter’s attacks,” replied Jonathon. “I would never do anything to hurt her and was very careful that she wouldn’t get nicked.”

“I thank you for that, Armstrong,” said Corbett. He looked up at the rest of the men, who had stopped their practice and were all watching this drama unfold. Then he spoke to her softly. “Raven, go change out of those ridiculous clothes right now, and wash up for the meal.”

“I’ll go with her,” said Lark, coming over and putting her hand on Raven’s arm.

“Fine,” she said, sheathing her sword. She started to leave, then stopped and looked back at Jonathon. “What about him?” she asked. “Father, he doesn’t belong here.”

“My lord, I only came to practice with my blade as you suggested,” Jonathon told Corbett.

“Then stay for now,” said Corbett. “Who is going to spar with the armorer?” Corbett looked up, speaking to his men.

When none of the men came forward, but instead looked in the opposite direction, Raven smiled. This would put the arrogant armorer in his place. He’d have to go back to the smithy now, and that is where he belonged.

“I’d actually like to spar with him,” said Rook, pulling his sword from the sheath.

“What?” gasped Raven. “Brother, nay!”

“I would like to fight him too,” said Corbett. “He’s worked for me many times, but I’m curious to see how good he really is.”

“Mother, tell them it’s time for the meal,” Raven said to Devon in a panic. She didn’t want Jonathon to get his way when she was being sent to her room like a scorned child.

“I’ll not tell your father a thing, and neither will you,” said her mother. “Now, let’s go back to the castle and wait in the great hall for them to finish their practice so we can have our meal.” Devon took her arm and led her away.

Raven looked over her shoulder seeing Rook sparring with Jonathon. Jonathon was good. Damned good with a blade. Suddenly, the rest of the men lined up, as they all wanted their turn to fight against the armorer.

Raven let out a frustrated sigh. Sometimes, it was so unfair to be a woman. Even a commoner like Jonathon Armstrong was now getting more attention and respect than she did.

* * *

An hour and a half later, Raven still sat at the dais, waiting for the return of the men from the practice yard so the meal could begin. The servants all stood patiently at the door to the kitchen, trying to keep the food warm. Even the minstrels had stopped playing, and everyone in the great hall had become quite bored.

Raven shot to her feet. “This is preposterous! I am not going to sit here another minute waiting on the men to join us. Come, Lark, let’s go back to my chamber.”

“Nay,” said Devon. “Here come your father and brother now. Sit down. Both of you. And don’t say a word about it.” Devon took a sip of wine and smiled pleasantly at her husband as he took his seat next to her. When Rook walked by, Raven grabbed him by the arm.

“What was going on out there? Why did it take so long?” she demanded to know. “We were waiting for you for nearly two hours.”

“I can’t help it,” said Rook with a shrug. “Once Father and I sparred with Jonathon, the rest of the men wanted to do so, too. He’s got one hell of a sword arm and his endurance is incredible. It’s probably from him swinging all those heavy hammers in the forge all day long,” said Rook. “The man never seems to get winded or tired. I’ve never seen such stamina in my life, even from the knights.”