Chapter Two #2
Because Berwick was by the sea, there was a strong, salty breeze that blew in from the east. Every knight in the encampment had their banners flying high to announce who was in attendance, and those banners were snapping briskly in the sea wind.
The area that the encampment was located in had been a meadow at one time, full of flowers and fat green grass, but that had all been trampled in the wake of wagons and horses and men.
There must have been some rain at some point over the past couple of days, because there were small puddles of muddy water along the side of the road.
Everything felt damp and cold, but bright with the clear sky.
Emmeline watched the distant encampment for what seemed like hours when, in truth, it was only a few minutes.
But it was long enough for her to become restless, so she opened the door to the carriage and climbed out.
The road beneath her feet was hard-packed earth, so there was little danger of her getting her slippers or her dress dirty.
That emboldened her, and she began to walk along the road, along the edge of the escort who was watching her curiously as she headed to the front.
But she didn’t go any further, simply watching the competitors’ encampment.
As she stood there, hands clasped behind her back, she could see someone approaching from off to her right.
A big, broad man wearing the finest and the latest in military garb.
Curious, Emmeline turned her attention to the man as he drew near.
He wore a mail coat and a tunic over the top of it that was emblazoned with a red, three-point shield and what looked like a serpent upon it.
A black serpent. He was wearing gloves, covering his enormous hands, and enormous boots that came up and over his knees.
Once she finished inspecting what he was wearing, her gaze moved to his face.
A most interesting and handsome face.
As he drew closer, she realized that he had long hair.
It was long and dark and luxurious from what she could see, but the front of it was sectioned into small braids along his scalp to keep it off his face.
There were several rows. He had hair on his face, neatly trimmed around his mouth and against his jawline, but it was his eyes that had her attention.
He had arched brows, dark and serious, and as he came onto the road toward her, she could see that his eyes were as dark as a moonless night.
Truth be told, there wasn’t one thing about the man that wasn’t dark and brooding and handsome.
In fact, he took her breath away.
When their eyes met, he came to a halt and bowed politely.
“My lady,” he said. “Forgive me my boldness in speaking to you, but I am looking for Lord Bretherdale, and I believe the standard on the carriage belongs to him. Am I incorrect?”
He had an accent she didn’t recognize when he spoke, which told her he hadn’t been born in England.
In fact, the more she looked at him, the more she could see that he was not a product of England in any way other than the clothing he wore and the words he used.
He had an otherworldly quality about him that was intriguing and alluring, like a distant star that was shrouded in mystery.
She’d never seen anyone like him.
“You are correct, my lord,” she said after a moment. Then she pointed toward the encampment. “He has gone in search of his son, who is a great competitor here today. Mayhap you know him? Sir Maximilian de Grey?”
The man nodded. “I know him well,” he said. “In fact, it is he who has sent me to greet his father. Would you be, perchance, Maximilian’s betrothed?”
Emmeline nodded. “I am,” she said. “Since there is no one to introduce us, I am Lady Emmeline de Witt. Who are you?”
Again, the man bowed politely. “Sir Addax al-Kort, at your service,” he said. “My lady, if you would like to return to the carriage, I shall lead your escort to Max’s encampment.”
Addax al-Kort. Not a Norman or a Saxon name, but something lyrical and unfamiliar. Quickly, she climbed back into the carriage with his polite assistance, and as she claimed her seat, he shut the door. Then he whistled through his teeth very loudly and waved an arm at the escort, who pulled out.
Then he disappeared toward the front.
Emmeline stuck her head out, briefly, to watch him, but she was also watching the commanding presence that he seemed to have.
Men were jumping to do his bidding as he took her escort into the encampment, heading for the northern end of it, where there were tents with the blue and white stripes that signaled the House of de Grey.
As the carriage pulled around, she could even see Bretherdale there, as he’d found his son’s tents.
But no son.
Emmeline could hear him yelling from where she sat.
Addax had gone to Bretherdale to evidently explain why Maximilian wasn’t here to greet his father, but that only seemed to calm Bretherdale marginally.
He was still quite upset. Addax gestured over toward the tournament arena, and Bretherdale simply took off in that direction.
Addax started to follow, but then he remembered about the lady in the carriage.
He sent a couple of men to follow Bretherdale to assist the man as he personally went for the carriage and opened the door.
“It seems Lord Bretherdale is quite anxious to see his son,” he said as if to explain the old man’s bad manners. “In fact, your betrothed has asked me to escort you and his father to the lists, where you can watch him compete. Will you come, my lady?”
Emmeline climbed out of the carriage with Addax’s help. “I would like that, my lord,” she said. “I’ve never seen a tournament before. This will be my first.”
Addax’s dark eyebrows lifted. “Truly?” he said. “You’ve never seen one?”
“Not one.”
Now he frowned. “And you say you are from England?”
“I am.”
“And not from the moon?”
Emmeline was starting to pick up on the fact that he was jesting with her, and she grinned. “Not the moon,” she said. “Only from England, but I’ve simply never had the opportunity to attend a tournament. Is that so odd?”
“Possibly,” Addax said, his dark eyes glimmering with mirth. He held out an elbow to her. “Max should be doing the honors, but it seems that I am privileged to be the first to introduce you to this brutal and exciting sport as you watch your betrothed compete.”
Emmeline took his elbow, feeling rather hot in the cheeks about it. She hadn’t been around a man this handsome in a very long time, if ever, and she was feeling the slightest bit giddy. If Addax was this kind and charming, she had the slightest bit of hope that her betrothed might be as well.
“If it is so brutal, why do men do it?” she asked.
Addax snorted softly. “Because men are constantly trying to prove themselves over one another,” he said. “Only the strongest survive.”
She considered that as they began to head over toward the village that had popped up around the enormous arena. “And you compete to prove yourself?” she said, indicating what he was wearing.
“As much as any man, I suppose,” Addax said. “How much do you know about the tournament circuit?”
“Absolutely nothing, my lord.”
He gestured to the village. “Then I shall explain,” he said.
“The tournament circuit follows a schedule of tournaments from all around the country. There are some tournaments that are established year after year, and also some that are added, for example, if a lord decides to hold an event that is open to everyone.”
Emmeline picked up the edge of her skirt as they walked over a wet patch of road. “And all tournaments are not open to everyone?”
Addax shook his head. “Some are invitation only,” he said. “But the tournament circuit usually allows anyone with the proper credentials to compete.”
“What are the proper credentials?”
Addax gestured back at the encampment. “Knights who have been properly trained,” he said simply.
“Men from good backgrounds, as some tournaments require you to present your letters of patent establishing nobility, while others will simply allow any man with the means and the talent to compete. You do not see that too often, however. Usually, men who follow the tournament circuit, like me, have been doing this a very long time and have an impeccable pedigree.”
“And Sir Maximilian has that pedigree?”
“Indeed, he does,” Addax said. His gaze lingered on her a moment. “I understand that you have never met him, my lady.”
Emmeline shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “But I… I am looking forward to the introduction.”
She didn’t sound very convincing. Even Emmeline didn’t think she sounded very convincing. But Addax didn’t comment on it one way or the other. Like any good escort, he remained detached but polite. He gestured ahead to the tournament village and the smells from the cooking stalls.
“Would you like refreshments before you watch the bout?” he asked. “I believe there is time to find you something to your liking.”
Emmeline could see the stalls where vendors were selling all manner of goods. “I’ve not eaten since before dawn,” she admitted. “If it is not too much trouble, I could use something to drink.”
“Then we shall find you something to drink.”
“And eat.”
He grinned at her. “And eat,” he said. “I saw a man selling coffins with meat and gravy. Does that sound tempting?”
Emmeline nodded eagerly. “Aye,” she said. “I have money to pay for it.”
He looked at her as if gravely insulted. “You will do no such thing,” he said. “It would be my pleasure to provide you with whatever you wish.”
She didn’t fight him on it because he seemed quite firm. “Thank you for taking the trouble, my lord,” she said gratefully. “You are most kind to do so.”
Addax had hold of her as they headed into the crowds around the vendor stalls. “Max is a dear friend of mine, my lady,” he said. “I consider it an honor to tend to his betrothed in his stead. He asked me to because he wanted to ensure you were shown all due respect.”
That brightened Emmeline. She smiled at Addax, displaying big dimples in each cheek. “That is very kind,” she said. “And I am happy to have made your acquaintance, my lord.”
“And yours, my lady.”
Off to the left, the coffin vendor was calling, and on behalf of a famished lady, Addax answered.