Chapter 21
Raven was furious that Jonathon had distracted her, causing her to lose the sword fight to Sir Whitehead.
Whitehead had gone on to win the complete round.
If she had won, there would have been no need for the joust. Now she would be required to joust with Whitehead in the finals since she won the archery round.
This tournament was set up a little differently than usual.
Her father said the winners of the first two rounds would be the only ones to compete in the joust for Raven’s hand in marriage.
Afterwards, there would be an opportunity for each of the competitors to joust, but the prize—meaning her—was off the table. Any other prizes would be money only.
“Well, Daughter,” said her father. “In just a short while you will be betrothed to either Sir Whitehead or Sir Nevar. Which one do you fancy?”
“Oh, Sir Nevar, without a doubt,” she said, sitting on the platform next to Lark.
“Quit your scowling, Raven. You’re going to scare them both off,” said Corbett.
“I can’t help it. I told you, I don’t want to get married. Not to either of them.”
“Corbett, mayhap you should listen to Raven,” said Devon. “You don’t want her to be unhappy, do you?”
“I have a feeling there is nothing that would make our daughter happy,” answered Corbett.
“I think mayhap she doesn’t want to marry the winner because she already has her eye on another man.” Devon looked over at Raven and nodded. “Raven, is there anything you’d like to say to your father? Now might be a good time to do it.”
“Shhh, not now,” said Corbett holding up his hand. “The joust is about to begin.”
“Raven,” said Lark, leaning over and whispering. “What are ye goin’ to do? Ye canna really joust.”
“I have no choice,” said Raven, looking from the sides of her eyes at her father. “We have to go.” She got up to leave, but stopped when she saw two knights riding out to the tiltyard.
“W-who’s that?” she gasped and pointed.
“I told you, that is Sir Whitehead and Sir Nevar,” said Corbett. “Haven’t you been paying any attention at all?”
“We have to leave. Right now,” whispered Raven, not knowing what was going on. She needed to get into her armor and out to the tiltyard so she could win this competition.
“Raven, look,” said Lark, grabbing her arm. “They are both ridin’ this way to ask for yer favor.”
“Get your sleeve or ribbon ready,” said Corbett. “You can give your favor to whichever one you want to win, but remember, it still doesn’t mean a thing. You will be wedding the winner.”
“My lady,” said Whitehead riding up with his helm in his arm and holding out his lance to hopefully win her favor.
“My lady,” repeated the imposter, riding over and holding out his lance to her as well. This man was wearing a helm, covering his face. He also wore the tunic with the phony French crest on it that she’d constructed. Who was he?
“Raven, you must give one of them your favor so the joust can begin,” said Devon.
“Before I do, I want to see Sir Nevar’s face.” She untied a ribbon from her hair and waited.
“Please, Sir Nevar,” said Corbett. “It seems no one here really knows you, and I’d like to see your face too.”
“Damn it, Raven,” she heard the imposter mumble from beneath his helm. Her heart jumped. Then the man raised his visor, but looked at Raven only.
Lark saw Jonathon’s face as well. “Raven, that’s–” started Lark, but Raven dug her nails into Lark’s arm. “Och, that hurts.”
“I’ve seen enough, put your visor down, Sir Knight,” she said, hurriedly slipping her ribbon over the tip of Jonathon’s lance. “Go now and joust. Go. Shoo,” she told the men, waving her fingers. They slowly turned and rode back to the lists.
“Raven! That was rude,” said her father. “These men are our guests, so show them some respect. Especially since one of them will be your husband.”
“Raven,” whispered Lark. “Are ye goin’ to let Jonathon joust?”
“I don’t have a choice,” she answered. “He’s my only hope now. I assure you, he has a much better chance of winning than I did.”
“Raven?” It was her mother. She moved away from Corbett and sat down next to her. “I tried to give you a chance to tell your father about Jonathon and you didn’t do it. That means you will have to marry one of those two men out there.”
“That’s what I’m hoping for,” said Raven. “However, I only want one of them, Mother.”
“What are you saying? I thought you wanted to marry Jonathon.”
“I do. And if he wins the joust, I’ll be the happiest girl ever.”
Devon slowly turned and looked at the two men preparing to joust. “Oh, Raven. Don’t tell me that Frenchman that no one seems to know has been your lover all along.”
“Nay, Mother. For the last two rounds I was Sir Nevar.”
“You?” Her mother’s brows raised and then she scowled. “How can you do this to your father? Do you realize the position you will put him in if Jonathon wins?”
“Aye. He’ll have to let me marry him. Those are the rules.”
“On the contrary, he will have no choice but to throw Jonathon in the dungeon and make Whitehead the winner.”
“Nay!” said Raven. “He wouldn’t do that.”
“You will have left him no choice. With all the nobles here today, if he let Jonathon get away with it, he would probably be stripped of his title and mayhap even his lands and castle.”
“That wouldn’t happen.”
“Oh really? Well, what do you think is going to happen once the rest of the nobles tell the king what your father did? You are putting him in a very uncomfortable position.”
“Oh no,” said Raven, feeling the tears welling in her eyes. “I never asked Jonathon to do this, I swear. I don’t even know why he is out there.”
“Could it be because he loves you and is trying to keep you from getting hurt or possibly killed?” asked her mother in a knowing manner.
Raven’s attention flashed back to the tiltyard. She saw the men charging at each other in the first pass. Jonathon’s lance broke on Whitehead and he was awarded a point. Everyone cheered and she breathed a sigh of relief.
“Do you really think that is what will happen if he wins?” asked Raven, not wanting to believe it.
“I know so,” answered Devon. “I had hoped you would talk to your father and handle this in your own way, but now I see I should have intervened.”
“Mother, what am I going to do?” Raven felt terrified, and not for herself. In her haste she had been selfish, and wasn’t thinking about Jonathon’s future without her. “I might have just condemned the man I love to death.”
Jonathon felt so alive that nothing could bring him down at this moment.
He had scored the first point against Whitehead and it felt damned good.
He wasn’t a knight. Far from it. But he had been a mercenary for a long time.
And in that time, he’d learned fighting skills to keep him alive.
This time he wasn’t fighting for himself. He was fighting for Raven.
He rode over to Rook who was waiting for him with a fresh lance. Raising the visor, he laughed.
“Did you see that?” he asked Rook. “Who would have ever imagined I could do that?”
“It was quite impressive,” said Rook, handing him the lance. “Do you think you can do it a few more times?”
“I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure Whitehead doesn’t win Raven’s hand in marriage.”
“Jonathon, stop,” called out Raven, rushing over to him. Lark was a little ways behind her. “Don’t do this. You need to forfeit right now.”
“Damn it,” grumbled Jonathon, seeing Raven heading over to him. “Rook, you need to keep her quiet and away from me.”
“Like I can?” asked Rook raising his palms in the air.
“Stop,” said Raven once again, approaching Jonathon out of breath, since she had run all the way down here. “I can’t let you do this.”
“Just try to stop me. I’m on fire,” said Jonathon, flipping down the visor. The horn sounded and he was off.
“Nay!” she shouted, tears dripping down her cheeks. “Rook, you can’t let him win,” she told her brother.
“Sister, you make no sense. I thought you wanted Sir Nevar to win the tournament,” said Rook. “Wasn’t that your plan all along?”
“I wanted it when I was Sir Nevar. Jonathon never should have taken my place.”
“It would be me out there right now if you hadn’t convinced Father to stop me from competing.”
“I only did so because I knew I couldn’t beat you at the sword fight. If I had won both events, there would be no need for a joust, don’t you understand? If I had won both, this stupid tournament would be over right now, and I’d be happy.”
“Jonathon is only doing this to keep you from being killed out there. Also to prove his love for you,” said Rook.
“He might be imprisoned for this.”
“He knows that.”
“And yet it still continues?” Raven’s heart hurt. This man truly did love her after all.
“Look, Raven!” Lark approached, pointing at the tiltyard.
Whitehead’s lance hit Jonathon so hard that it not only splintered but it knocked Jonathon off balance and he almost fell from the horse.
“Oh!” Raven held her hand to her mouth and watched as Jonathon somehow managed to pull himself back up. If he was unhorsed, he’d be automatically disqualified and Whitehead proclaimed the winner. As the crowd cried out, Jonathon rode back to Rook to prepare for the last pass.
“Jonathon,” she said, ducking under the list and running over to the side of his horse. “Are you all right?” she asked.
“I’m seeing a few stars right now, but I’ll live,” he said, flipping open the visor and smiling.
“You’ve got to lose this competition,” she told him. “Please, do it for me.”
“Lose? Nay, my love. I am going to win so you don’t have to marry that ogre Whitehead. Rook, give me another lance.”
“Nay, you can’t do this,” said Raven.
“I’m doing it to show you I love you.”
“If you really loved me, you would lose, and let me marry Whitehead.”
“What?” he asked, looking down at her. “Raven, have you lost your mind?”
“Not yet, but I swear I will if anything happens to you.”
“I’ll be fine.”