Chapter Nine
Victoria mea est!
The next day, Addax destroyed the competition.
From her vantage point in the lists, Emmeline watched him put away three challengers, his own brother included, before the final bout came against William de Wolfe himself.
By the time the Wolfe appeared, the Black Dragon was running high on the fires of victory, and the crowd, seeing their two favorite competitors going against one another, was screaming nonstop.
It was a match for the ages.
Emmeline had never been part of something so energetic.
The crowd was in a frenzy as the two knights lined up against each other.
Addax had several men with him—Essien, Cole, Maximilian, and Beau included, while William had Paris, Kieran, and Julian as support.
The men supporting the knights did nothing more than making sure the horse was properly outfitted or ensure that the knight didn’t need any last-minute assistance, but the moment the field marshals waved the yellow flag, the crowd leapt to their feet as Addax and William spurred their horses forward.
Emmeline almost couldn’t watch.
She was in the lists with Corisande, who had joined her for the final games, explaining the rules that Addax hadn’t covered and talking about the women in the lists and their fashionable clothing.
This far away from London, they often didn’t see such fashion, but given that Berwick was a port city, they were more cosmopolitan than most in the north.
In fact, a few of the competitors and their families had taken cogs up the coast from London, and those expensive cogs were moored in the river.
Corisande was discussing that very thing when the roar of the crowd drowned her out on the first pass.
Lances splintered, but no one was unseated. No one was even injured. Addax and William returned to their sides of the field and collected another lance as the horses were checked for any splinters or damage. Once the animals had been cleared, the knights lined up again and the flag dropped.
More screaming. More flying wood. De Wolfe lost his shield.
But no one was hurt.
Emmeline breathed a sigh of relief.
“Does Lord Blackadder compete?” she asked, using Cole’s proper title.
Corisande grinned. “Not if I can help it,” she said, giggling. “Truthfully, he loves to compete, but he has an empire that is dependent on him, and a family, so he doesn’t compete as much as he would like to. The games can be dangerous.”
Emmeline puffed out her cheeks in a gesture of agreement. “How do you stand it?” she asked. “It is positively nerve-racking to watch, wondering if someone will be injured.”
Corisande shook her head. “When the champions compete like this, they are so skilled that no one will be injured,” she said. “They are not trying to unseat each other, but simply trying to gain points by breaking lances or disarming their opponent. Whoever earns the most points will win.”
Emmeline nodded, watching William as he fussed with the hilt of a lance as Addax waited patiently on the other side of the arena. “Is the prize a big one?” she asked.
Corisande nodded. “Quite substantial,” she said. “I heard Cole say that it was two years’ worth of a knight’s salary. Whoever wins will be quite rich.”
Emmeline was fixed on Addax, sitting tall and proud on the big, dappled charger he rode.
Just to see him made her heart beat a little faster, but it was a sensation she quickly chased away.
“Sir Addax told me that he is from a faraway kingdom and he wishes to earn money to raise an army to return,” she said.
“It sounds like a noble goal. At least he doesn’t want to waste it on wine and women. ”
She chuckled at her own joke until she realized that was exactly what her husband had been doing since their marriage. Suddenly, it didn’t seem so funny.
“Addax would be the last person to do that,” Corisande said, not entirely oblivious of the inference toward Maximilian. “He is one of the most honorable men you will ever meet. But I think you already know that.”
Emmeline looked at her. “He has been very kind to me,” she said quietly. “But so have you. I cannot thank you enough for everything you have done, Cori. It has been such an honor to come to know you.”
Corisande put her arm around Emmeline’s shoulders. “I hope this means that we are friends forever, Emmy,” she said. “I hope you will write to me when you return home. I should like to know how you are doing.”
“Of course I will write,” Emmeline assured her. “And you must write to me about your children. I would like to know if—”
She was cut off when the field marshal suddenly waved the flag and the knights bolted toward one another.
The crowd began to scream again as the competitors thundered across the arena floor, separated only by the colorful guides, until they came within range.
The lower portion of Addax’s body remained in the saddle, but the upper portion moved sharply to the right as he brought up his lance.
That caused William’s lance to barely graze his left shoulder, while Addax’s lance exploded on William’s left arm.
Since William was without his shield, it was a hard hit.
The crowd went mad as the competitors returned to their respective sides, but it didn’t take long to realize that William had been injured.
The crowd quickly quieted down as the field marshals went over to talk to de Wolfe.
He was still mounted on his steed, but there was a conversation going on.
His left arm seemed to be the issue. After a brief conversation, one of the field marshals went to the center of the arena and called up to the crowd.
“The Wolfe cannot continue,” he shouted. “Victory to the Black Dragon!”
The crowd roared so loudly that Emmeline had to cover her ears.
Both she and Corisande stood up, watching as Addax rode over to William to make sure the man wasn’t too badly injured before making his sweep in front of an adoring crowd.
Women were throwing silk kerchiefs and gloves and flowers at him, flowers that had been sold in the tournament village for just this purpose, while men threw coins.
Addax drew his horse to a halt in front of the lists as his squires rushed around, collecting anything of value.
Emmeline watched it all, a smile on her lips, feeling something she’d never felt before—pride.
She’d given the man a token before his day began, and, miraculously, it had brought him luck.
She watched him as he said something to one of his squires, and the boy picked up several of the flowers that had been thrown down, mostly roses and a purple flower called the Scottish primrose.
Addax had a big bunch of them in his hand as he lifted his helmed head to the crowd and pointed right at Emmeline.
At least, it looked like he pointed at her. She looked around to see if he was pointing at someone else, but Corisande saw the gesture and realized it was for Emmeline too. She knew the lady had given him a favor, and now, he was going to return the gesture. She pulled Emmeline to her feet.
“Go to the edge of the lists, dearest,” she said. “He is going to give you those flowers.”
“Me?” Emmeline said, uncertain. “Are you sure?”
Corisande began to walk with her, pulling her down the stairs toward the railing. “Of course I am sure,” she said, pushing a child out of the way so they could get down the steps. “You gave him a favor, didn’t you? He wants to thank you.”
They made it down to the edge of the lists, about eye level with Addax as he reined his horse along the rail. The crowd quieted down, watching in anticipation as Addax removed his helm and lifted his voice to the crowd.
“It has been an honor to compete before you today,” he shouted in his deep, rich voice. “I would like to introduce you to the lady who brought me good fortune, your queen of beauty and honor, Lady Emmeline de Grey, wife of my good friend, the King of Chaos. Show her your appreciation.”
The crowd screamed its approval as Addax handed the bunch of flowers over to Emmeline, who was both embarrassed and thrilled. She took the flowers, her cheeks flaming with the attention. Addax saw her discomfort and laughed softly.
“It was your favor that did it,” he said, reaching down into the front pocket of his tunic to show her that he had pinned the favor into the pocket. “This brought me great fortune today, my lady. Thank you.”
Emmeline looked at the long, slender gold brooch that she had given him.
“As I told you when I gave it to you, it belonged to my father,” she said.
“What I did not tell you was that my mother gave it to him on their wedding day, and I was planning on giving it to Maximilian, but… but I did not. It would not mean anything to him.”
The smile faded from Addax’s lips as he looked down at the bar brooch.
It was a pin, meant to hold tunics or cloaks, a very manly-looking piece of jewelry.
He hadn’t known the significance of it when she gave it to him, but he knew it now.
It touched him that she would think enough of him to let him borrow it.
“I am honored, truly,” he told her as he unpinned it. “I am certain I would not have won had you not loaned it to me.”
He was extending it to her, but Emmeline shook her head. “Nay,” she said seriously. Her eyes lingered on him for a moment. “Please keep it. I would rather you have it. Did you see what is inscribed on the back?”
He hadn’t. With some uncertainty that he should keep what was clearly an intimate gift, he looked at the back of the brooch, holding it up for better light. There was one word there, and he squinted, trying to read it. But when he realized what it said, his features relaxed with appreciation.
“Worthy,” he said softly. “It says ‘worthy.’”