Page 25 of Highlander’s Burning Touch

Almost before the formalities were out of the way, the action began. In an eyeblink, the Macaulay knight had gotten close to Dunfirth, almost ousting him from his horse.

The Dunfirth rider soon rallied, getting his balance and riding straight for Macaulay. He jabbed and jeered with his lance, almost glancing his shield but just missing. A murmur went around the stadium as an official, a guard from the keep, came out and noted down a score.

Macaulay wasted no time in returning the gesture. Now he was streaking along the field, his long lance balancing precariously in his hands.

Ooh.

A sigh from the crowd went up as Macaulay wobbled, nearly collapsing from his horse, as he lost his footing.

Deva felt her heart jump as he flailed helplessly, dangling below his horse.

For one awful moment, Deva thought he was dead – or that he would be crushed to death by his horse. Breathlessly, she waited as he pulled his way back up and got back into the saddle. A huge cheer came up from the crowd.

“Ah, nearly!” she quipped to Allyth, but inside her heart was whooshing away with relief.

“Still nae interested?” said Allyth, with a tart little glance. Deva’s lips parted in a twisted smile but said nothing.

Before she knew it, they were at it again. Dunfirth came careering over with another attempt at unseating his rival. But this time, Macaulay was ready for him.

Without giving him the chance to strike, Macaulay spun at the man with his lance, this time maintaining perfect control. With one clean swoop, he had jostled Dunfirth from his horse, successfully knocking him off.

A massive roar ran around the field, and for a few minutes, Deva couldn’t see anything in the hail of leaping and waving. But when she looked, the man was back on his feet and climbing his horse.

It didn’t take long for him to retaliate, cantering past the much taller Macaulay and trying to land a blow on his shield. Just in time, Macaulay moved away, sending his opponent swaying.

Dunfirth righted himself and wasted no time in trying again. But Macaulay was ready. The pair cantered around each other for a while before Dunfirth suddenly took a spin at Macaulay’s head.

The move was so wild it drew gasps from the crowd. Her heart pumping madly, and Deva spun around to Allyth.

“What is this? I thought there were rules?” Deva asked, shocked, as Macaulay swiftly darted out of range, managing to remain upright.

She might not be an expert in the rules of the tournament, but she knew a foul when she saw it.

Allyth just shrugged. “It’s the Highlands; he probably ought to be grateful he didnae fling a dungball at him, too.”

Before Deva could reply, Macaulay was on the offensive, now charging at his assailant at speed. For a while, their lances clashed as Dunfirth put up a good fight, almost succeeding in knocking Macaulay’s from his grip.

He didn’t manage, though, and within a minute, Macaulay had broken the tip of his opponent’s lance and looked set to take another swing.

Within seconds, he had jabbed it again, this time breaking it in half.

Another massive cheer ran around the field. By this point, Deva had abandoned all pretense of serenity and was on her feet yelling with the rest of the crowd.

Despite herself, the jousters’ skill reeled her in and forced her to take an interest. Macaulay’s performance was all the more impressive because she never would have believed that the scrawny lad she’d just met had it in him. And crazier still, Deva was now firmly in his corner and rooting for him.

Now they were locked into combat, Macaulay leading a charge against Dunfirth. This time, he did not let up until he had rammed the side of his opponent clean off his horse a second time.

Then there was a bit of noise as men rushed into the field, tending to the fallen rider. He did not get up right away, leaving a tense few moments for them all. Eventually, the man recovered enough to walk, but in all the clapping and adulation, Deva missed what had happened.

Finally, one of her father’s counselors came into the fore, an old man with dark silver hair. There was so much noise that Deva could barely make out what he said, but she just about heard “Macaulay wins,” and the crowd exploding in jubilation.

Through the agitated crowd, Deva just glimpsed the Macaulay knight being hoisted and carried high by his men in a lap of honor around the field.

Beside her, Allyth clapped hard, glancing excitedly over to catch her eye.

“So then, Mistress Macaulay,” she said, raising an eyebrow as if to see her reaction.

It had not escaped Deva for a moment how her life was bound up in this contest. But even so, she felt her heart skip a beat.