Chapter 19
“Brother, wake up. You’re missing the archery competition that has already started.”
“What? Nay.” Jonathon had fallen asleep at the table last night, fully dressed. He’d been dreaming of Raven all night long... married to another man. It was the worst nightmare of his life. “I need to talk to Raven’s father. Where is he?”
“He’s sitting up on the platform watching the competition,” said little Gerold.
“Out of my way.” Jonathon hurried to the door.
“Wait! Why do you want to talk to him?” asked Avery.
“I have to stop this competition. I’m going to tell him that I want to marry his daughter.”
Jonathon raced out to the practice yard, trying to dodge the many people who had showed up to watch the tournament. How the hell did he sleep through all this? It must have been from his lack of rest while making Raven’s armor. He’d been so exhausted. If not, he never would have overslept.
Strolling minstrels dressed in parti-colored clothes wandered the courtyard playing lutes, and passing the hat for coins.
Not only the nobles and competitors were there, but also the servants and the villagers, since everyone was invited to watch the spectacular competition that would determine which man would win Raven for his bride.
The thought sickened him. He should have gone to Lord Corbett days ago, weeks ago, asking for Raven’s hand—she was right. Being a commoner, he knew this would only mean trouble for him, but he had to try. If not, he would never forgive himself.
The noise level within the castle walls was heightened. He could hear the spectators cheering from the area where the archery competition was already in progress. Children ran by chasing each other, and he almost stumbled over a few stray dogs and even a goat and pig.
“Damn it,” he mumbled to himself, not able to move quickly or even see what was happening through the crowd.
“Fresh pies. Get your fresh pies,” called out a vendor carrying a tray over her head with small hand pies filled with fruit.
“Two herrings for a shilling,” called out a fishmonger.
There were many vendors with their carts set up in the courtyard today, trying to make a living.
“Ale or wine. Ale or wine,” called out a man with a long tray filled with mugs of the drinks. He carried them high over his head.
“Jonathon, wait for us,” called Avery from behind him. Jonathon stopped, trying to look through the crowd to find Raven, but he didn’t see her. His brother and Gerold caught up to him. Avery held a hand pie in one hand and a mug of ale in another.
“Care for something to eat or drink?” asked Avery, taking a bite of the fruit pie and holding it out to him.
“Nay,” said Jonathon still not seeing Raven anywhere. He could see Lord Corbett and Lady Devon up on the wooden dais watching the sport, but oddly, Raven wasn’t with them. “Why didn’t you wake me, Avery? I don’t have time to stop this now. I’m already too late.”
“Brother, you were up pining over Lady Raven most of the night, so I thought you’d want to sleep late today. The last thing I figured you’d want to do is to watch the competition.”
“I’m going to sneak through the legs of everyone and make my way to the front to watch the archery,” said Gerold.
“All right, go on,” said Avery. “I wish we could get close enough to at least see what’s happening. There is such a crowd here. And so many competitors.”
“Don’t remind me,” growled Jonathon, knowing each one of those competitors was a potential husband for Raven. Right now, Jonathon felt like killing them all.
“Jonathon, I was looking for you and wondering where you were.”
Jonathon turned around to find Rook standing there with one arm around a serving girl, clutching a tankard of ale in the other.
Why did no one ever say a word when a nobleman wanted to have a fling with a peasant, but if a noblewoman did it, she was punished severely and sometimes even killed?
“Get back to work,” said Rook with a chuckle, hitting the girl on the rump. She giggled and blushed and hurried off through the crowd.
“I’ll catch up with you later, Brother,” said Avery, following the girl.
“I wanted to give you your pay now, since you’re no longer needed as my sister’s personal guard. After today, she’ll be betrothed, and hopefully her husband will keep her in her place. You won’t have to worry about it anymore.” He handed a pouch of coins to Jonathon, but Jonathon didn’t take it.
“I don’t want the money,” he told Rook.
“You don’t?” Rook seemed surprised. “Well, what is it you want?” he asked, lifting up the tankard to his mouth to drink.
“Flowers, buy a flower for your lover?” asked an old lady missing her front teeth. She held out a basket of flowers to him.
“Nay. Not now,” he said, shooing the woman away. Once she left, Jonathon continued. “Rook, I want... I want to... I want to marry your sister.”
Rook spit a stream of ale from his mouth, almost choking. Then he laughed. “You are jesting, right?”
“Nay. I love her and want her as my wife.”
Rook’s smile slowly faded. “Don’t be saying things like that so loud. Someone might hear you.” He stuck the pouch of coins back in his pocket.
“I don’t care who knows. I was on my way to find your father to ask him for Raven’s hand in marriage.”
“We need to talk.” Rook downed the rest of the ale and plopped the tankard down on the tray of a passing vendor. “Come,” said Rook, leading the way to the mews.
Jonathon could hear a man at the archery range calling out the competitors’ names.
“Sir Jonathon Nevar from Lyon, France, is now in the lead,” shouted the man who was the castle’s herald and also served as the master of ceremonies for the tournament.
Rook entered the mews with Jonathon right behind him.
“Leave us,” Rook told the falconer, who promptly left as commanded. “Now, what is this foolish notion that you, a commoner, could ever marry a noble? Are you mad?”
“I know it’s insane, but I have to try. I love Raven and can’t let her marry another man. I should have said something to your father sooner.”
“Nay, I don’t think that would have been a good idea.
It still isn’t,” he said. “My father has worked hard over the years trying to bring respect back to the Blake family name. After his father was stripped of his title for marrying a commoner, he is determined that his children will never make the same mistake. He almost made that mistake with my mother when he thought she was just a servant, and before he discovered she was noble. However, I believe he would have married her either way. After all, love does change a man, I hear.”
“Yes, it does,” said Jonathon, feeling suddenly panicked. He could see that the talk he wanted to have with Raven’s father would do nothing at all to change the outcome after all. Or at least, he didn’t think so.
“I suggest you forget all about my troublesome sister, and go back to your father’s shop in town and live your life. Nothing you could possibly say to my father would make him change his mind once he’s already decided on something.” Rook turned and headed to the door.
“We made love,” he blurted out. His words caused Rook to groan and turn around.
“Please tell me you’re jesting.”
“Nay. It happened. We made love and honestly, for all I know, she might be carrying my child within her right now.”
“Oh, hell, this is just great!” said Rook in a half-laugh, half-yell. “This will kill my father.”
“Mayhap, he doesn’t have to find out?”
“Think what you’re saying, fool,” spat Rook.
“Noblemen don’t want a bastard child. They need heirs of their own blood, not a commoner’s whelp.
If my sister marries the winner of the tournament today and she’s already pregnant, it’ll cause a battle between the winner and Blake Castle.
That can’t happen. Marriages are done for the sake of alliances. Don’t you get it?”
“I didn’t say she was pregnant. I just said... I suppose it’s a possibility.”
Rook’s fist hit Jonathon hard in the jaw, the force knocking him to the ground.”
“Ow, what was that for?” asked Jonathon rubbing his aching jaw. His lip was split and bleeding.
“That’s just a sample of what’s to come when my father finds out,” growled Rook. “Only instead of punching you, he’ll have you strung up from the gallows. What is the matter with you? How could you take my sister’s virginity?”
“I didn’t. She wasn’t a virgin,” Jonathon said in his defense, still on the ground.
“What?” asked Rook.
“She said she lost that to an actual nobleman who visited years ago.”
“Bloody hell! Who is he? I’ll string him up myself.” Rook paced back and forth.
“I don’t know,” he told Rook. “All I know is that I love your sister.”
“And that gives you the right to lure her to your bed?”
“Well, actually... I didn’t want to tell you, but she was the one luring me. At first.”
“Why am I not surprised?” mumbled Rook. “God’s eyes, we’ve got to stop this tournament.” He extended his arm and helped Jonathon to his feet.
“My thoughts exactly,” said Jonathon.
“We need to stop the competition, but it’ll never happen,” stated Rook. “It is already underway, and there are just too many people here. My father would never turn them away. That would be bad for his reputation. Plus, the nobles would make his life hell.”
“What can we do?” asked Jonathon.
“We?” Rook paced back and forth. “You will do nothing. I have to figure this out on my own.”
“Nay. I want to help. Certainly there’s something I can do,” said Jonathon.
“You’ve already done too much, believe me.”
“Can I enter the competition, and fight for Raven’s hand?” asked Jonathon.
“Nay. It’s against the rules. Only nobles can compete.” Rook crossed his arms over his chest. “However, there is no rule saying I can’t enter the tournament.”
“You?” asked Jonathon, making a face. “You’re her brother.”
“I know that,” said Rook. “However, if I win, then it’ll keep any other nobleman from winning.”
“Can you do that?” asked Jonathon, feeling excited that this might just work.
“I am the son of the lord of the castle. No one would stop me from being in the tournament. They’ll think I’m just doing it for sport and naught else.”
“What if you don’t win?” asked Jonathon, fearing the worse. “Then it will have been all for naught.”
“Not win?” Rook laughed. “I am the best at tournaments in all of England. Plus, I have an advantage since it is taking place at my home and I’m already comfortable with the setting.
There’s no way I can lose. Now come on. I need to hurry.
You can act as my squire. I’ll have to compete in the archery competition, and get there before it’s over.
Let’s just hope to hell this works or it’s not going to be pretty in the end. ”
Dressed in her hooded cloak and her surcoat, pretending to be Sir Nevar, Raven shot another arrow, hitting dead center once again. It looked like she won. Or at least she thought so. Then the herald made a surprise announcement.
“Before I declare Sir Nevar as the winner of the archery competition, we have one late entrant. Lord Rook Blake.”
“Rook?” she said aloud, turning quickly to see her brother picking up a bow right next to her. Jonathon was with him, acting as some kind of fake squire.
“Hello,” said Rook, nocking his arrow. “I am Lord Rook of Blake Castle. I don’t believe I know your name.”
Damn it, she didn’t need this. What the hell were they doing? They were going to ruin everything.
She kept her face hidden under the hood, glancing over to Albert who was dressed as her squire. He shrugged.
“I am Sir Jonathon Nevar,” she said, trying to use a low, fake voice. Jonathon looked up when she said his name. Now she wished she had used another name instead.
“From France?” asked Rook. “You don’t sound French.”
“Oui,” she answered, wishing her brother would just shut up.
“Is this your first tournament?” Rook asked in French.
Her brother was fluent in French. Raven, on the other hand didn’t know that language that well, since she hadn’t paid much attention during her studies. However, thankfully, she did understand what Rook just said.
“Nay, of course it is not my first tournament,” she answered, trying hard to have a French accent. “And I prefer to speak in English while I’m here.”
“He sure is a small one,” her brother said in a low voice to Jonathon. “This should be a breeze.”
Raven wasn’t too worried. While Rook was a good archer, she was far better at it than he. Rook had never beat her in an archery competition, and wouldn’t do so today either.
Thankfully, the final round was in her favor. She beat Rook and was declared the winner of this leg of the competition.
“The winner is Sir Jonathon Nevar of France,” called out the herald.
“Let’s get out of here,” she whispered to Albert, taking off through the crowd before Rook decided to shake her hand and congratulate her.
“What about your prize?” asked Albert from behind her, following on her heels. Each winner of each round of the tournament was awarded with a bag of money.
“I don’t care about it,” she said, rushing to a shed behind the mews where Lark would be waiting for her. “Take watch and make sure no one sees me.” She slipped into the storage shed.
“Ye won!” said Lark, hugging her. “Good job. Was it hard?”
“Nay,” she said, undressing. “It was a breeze, as my brother would say.” She needed to put on her gown and get back to the dais platform before her father became suspicious. “The worst part was when Rook showed up to compete with Jonathon as his squire.”
“What?” asked Lark in surprise. “Why would your brother enter the tournament?”
“I have no idea. However, I can’t let him win. I need to win in order to secure my future.” She tied the bodice of her gown. “All right, let’s go. I’ll have Albert guard the shed until we return to change for the hand-to-hand combat part of the competition.”
“Raven, I’m worried for ye.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Mayhap for now. But what will ye do when ye’re required to joust?”
“Hopefully, I’ll win the next round, too, and won’t have to joust. With two wins under my belt, I’ll win the tournament without even having to put myself in that position.”
“What if you don’t win the sword fight?”
“I will. I have to. If not, my life will be over.”
“Ye mean when ye have to marry a nobleman ye dinna care for?”
“That, and the fact that I will probably actually be killed attempting to joust.”