Epilogue #2
“You two,” he said, indicating Paris and Kieran. “Leave us.”
The two knights did, but Paris was reluctant to move until Kieran dragged him away. When they were out of earshot, Christopher looked at William.
“A fine match, William,” he said, his blue eyes twinkling. “Your father would have been proud.”
William dipped his head in thanks. “I hope so, my lord,” he said. “Thank you for the honor today of riding against you today. It was a privilege.”
Christopher nodded, his gaze moving down William’s arm, to the hand that had gripped the lance.
“And for me,” he said. “But I did not hit you hard enough to dislodge the lance.”
“You hit harder than you realized.”
“Nay, I did not.”
“Then I must have had a weak moment.”
Christopher couldn’t decide if he was furious or amused at what he suspected. “No de Wolfe has a weak moment,” he said. “It is not in your nature.”
William shook his head. “Nay, it is not,” he said. “But it is not in your nature, either. You were going to kill yourself rather than forfeit a bout, no matter how exhausted or advanced in years you were. A man your age should not go up against younger men with better stamina.”
Christopher frowned at the truth, insulting though it was.
“William, if you threw this match, I will have the marshals set the guides up once more and we shall go again,” he said.
“Once I knock you from your horse, and I will knock you off, I am going to beat the guts out of you and use your rotten hide as a rug in front of my hearth. Then you can talk to me about old men and stamina.”
William was trying desperately not to laugh. “My apologies,” he said. “I did not mean it as it sounded, only that you have earned your reputation. You should not jeopardize it against someone as unworthy as me.”
Christopher shook his head reproachfully at the smooth-talking young knight. “You are a devil,” he growled. “Answer my question—did you deliberately lose your lance?”
William’s eyes were glittering with warmth at a man he loved and adored. “Of course not,” he finally said. “I would never do such a thing. I lost my grip on it and it simply slipped out of my hand. I lost to a legend today, quite fairly. And I am proud of it.”
With that, he directed his horse away, leaving Christopher both fuming and touched. There was no question in his mind that the knight known as the Wolfe had thrown the match. But he wasn’t going to argue with him.
God bless the man.
Wherever Edward de Wolfe was, Christopher had a feeling the man was very proud.
And so was Christopher.
*
“I am going to be ready for de Wolfe in the mass competition,” Essien said. “With his loss to Hereford, the man will be out for blood.”
Addax waggled his eyebrows in agreement. A couple of hours after the tournament had ended, they were preparing for a preliminary bout in the mass competition. Preparing along with them were other members of their team in Ashton, Peter, Cassian, and Alexander.
It was a hell of a team.
“Wolfie is siding with his brother,” Cassian reminded them. “The man is unbeatable in a mass competition. We should have enticed him over to our team.”
“With what?” Essien wanted to know. “He’ll laugh if we offer him money.”
“Give him somebody’s sister,” Ashton said, looking at Cassian. “You have two sisters-in-law who are available.”
Cassian scowled. “Rebecca would rip off his arms and beat him to death with them,” he said. “And Olivia is too young.”
“I heard that William and Wolfie’s father married their mother very young.”
“Not that young.”
Ashton conceded the point. “I suppose,” he said. “All I know is that I am going to try to stay away from him. I would like to leave the competition with my head intact.”
“Ash, you’re nearly as unbeatable as he is,” Essien said. “And speaking of unbeatable, the rumors are flying that William threw his bout against Hereford. That’s what some people are saying. Have any of you heard that?”
Alexander lifted his head from where he’d been securing his scabbard. “None of that talk, Es,” he said, his voice low. “That can ruin a man’s reputation.”
Essien looked at the man. “I didn’t say it,” he said. “I simply said that I’d heard rumors. My suggestion was going to be that we quash them as we hear them. It doesn’t do William or Hereford any good for those to be making the rounds.”
Everyone was in agreement. As they returned to the last of their preparations, the tent flap opened and Maddoc entered. He was met with a chorus of greeting.
“We finally made it,” he said, his young face flushed because he’d run all the way across the competitors’ camp to find Addax’s tent. “We met with terrible weather in Wiltshire and that slowed us down tremendously. But I’m finally here and I’m ready to put down a beating on anyone who opposes us.”
He was smiling with delight as Alexander gave him an affectionate pat on the side of the head. “Good lad,” he said. “But you missed the bout to end all bouts. William de Wolfe against Hereford.”
“I know,” Maddoc said. “I heard that Hereford soundly beat him.”
Alexander eyed him. “And that was all you heard?”
Maddoc nodded. “Aye,” he said. “Why? Is there more to it?”
Alexander shook his head, thankful that the knight hadn’t heard those rumors they’d just been discussing. “Nay,” he said. “Gather your things, lad. We must get to the field.”
“I will,” Maddoc said. “But I came for another reason—Addax, Lord Hereford wants to see you and Essien in his tent immediately. He said to come with all due haste.”
Addax and Essien collected the clubs they intended to use, since no blades were allowed in the mass competition.
“Very well,” Addax said. “Did he say why?”
Maddoc shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “But he said to hurry.”
Addax walked past him, toward the tent opening. “Where is your father?” he asked. “Is he going to be on our team?”
Maddoc shrugged. “Doubtful,” he said. “He’s with Hereford.”
No more questions were asked. With no particular sense of urgency, Addax and Essien made their way across the encampment, toward the enormous blue-and-yellow tent on the north side where Hereford had established himself.
The day around them was sizing up to be a bit turbulent as a storm began to roll in from the west. They could see it on the horizon, having already rolled over Wales and Shropshire, now heading for Wolverhampton. The clouds were dark and even at a distance, they could hear the thunder.
Essien paused to watch it for a moment.
“That is going to turn the mass competition into a lovely, muddy mess,” he said unhappily. “Emmy and Catalina must not be allowed to stand out in the muck and watch.”
Addax paused, seeing what looked like a bad storm heading their way.
“Agreed,” he said. “Come along—let’s get this over with so we can find our wives.
The last I saw Emmy, she wanted to go to the vendors’ village because a merchant had brought in a collection of silk scarves.
If she does not need one more thing in her trunks, it is silk scarves. ”
“But you gave her money, anyway.”
“Of course I did.”
Essien chuckled. “Catalina will buy a scarf and tell me it is for the baby,” he said as Addax flipped the tent flap back. “Every time she buys something now, no matter what it is, she tells me it is for the baby. I am starting to become suspicious that it is not.”
Addax grinned at a wife trying to slip something past her adoring, and perhaps oblivious, husband. They came upon the main tent at this point, and as they entered, they came face to face with Christopher and Rhys, who were nearly standing at the doorway to greet them.
“My lord,” Essien said. “Maddoc said you wanted to see us?”
Christopher nodded as Addax greeted Rhys. “I do,” Christopher said. “I’m sorry to take you away from the start of the mass competition, but this is something rather important that cannot wait. I think you’ll understand when I finish telling you.”
Both Addax and Essien nodded. “Of course, my lord,” Essien said. “How may we be of service?”
Christopher motioned them deeper inside the tent. They followed him, still not sensing anything out of the ordinary. As Essien took Addax’s club and set it against a table along with his own, Christopher spoke quietly.
“Something has come to light that I sought to investigate before bringing it to your attention,” he said to them.
“I will come to the point on this, but there is a bit of an explanation behind it, so I beg patience. The situation is as follows—at the Lioncross tournament last year, Rhys came to me with interesting information. It might have involved you, but also, it might not have. We did not know for certain. We discussed telling you both about it, but decided against it because we wanted to investigate it further before bringing you in on it.”
Addax cocked his head curiously. “What is it, my lord?”
Christopher looked at Rhys, who took the hint and continued.
“It was, indeed, an interesting situation,” he said.
“I have a neighbor who is a merchant. He has a fleet of ships that sail all over the known world, but mostly to places like Tripoli and Alexandria, Naples and Athens. Those kinds of ports. The man knows kings and pashas and emperors the world over, and last year, he returned from a very long journey. I know this because when he is gone, I send men to guard his lands. He returned and had a feast to thank me for helping him. At the feast, I met his new wife, a woman from Alexandria. Of course, my wife spent most of her time speaking with her, and Elizabeau thought that she was elegant and kind, very well read. I, too, spent a few moments speaking with her, and when I asked if she had been born in Alexandria, she told me that it was not the city of her birth. She had been born in Kitara.”
That brought a reaction from Addax and Essien. “A citizen of Kitara?” Addax repeated, surprised. “In Alexandria?”