9. Laurel #3
“Do women compete?” I asked Aalis interestedly.
I wasn’t up to Father’s skill, of course.
Few people were. But I could shoot just as well as most of the competitors I had seen so far.
Better than several of them, if I gave my best performance.
And of course I wouldn’t actually compete.
The last thing I needed was to draw attention to myself while posing as a servant.
But even so, my fingers still itched for a bow.
If only I were back in Sherwood Forest, where the air smelled of leaves and moss instead of sweat and metal, and where I could compete in tournaments without worrying about whether people would recognize my heritage and turn me in because of it.
Aalis wrinkled her nose. “I suppose one could but why would she want to?”
“Maybe she wants to prove that she is the best at that sport. Or maybe she wants to give a rose to the man of her choice.”
Aalis laughed. “You’re so funny! Imagine, a woman giving a rose to a man…”
Before I could respond, Conrad sidled up beside her. Aalis turned to him at once, her cheeks flushing to pink, and whatever small part of her attention she had given me vanished entirely. I left them to their whispering and wandered back along the rope barrier.
The archery field was crowded, but it wasn’t as tightly packed as it had been during the jousting.
Many people had drifted away to find food or shade or visit one of the many booths speckled throughout the grounds.
Children sat on their fathers’ shoulders, craning their necks for a better view.
Servants moved through the edges of the crowd with trays of drinks, and somewhere behind me, a woman complained loudly that the dust was ruining the hem of her gown.
Near one of the wooden posts that held up the rope barrier, Leopold the Sixth leaned with one shoulder against the post, watching the archers with his arms crossed.
He was lean, with a narrow face and a trim mustache, and his nose was almost impossibly straight.
His hair was so neatly parted that it looked painted rather than real.
Even though we were outside, his clothing was still immaculate, from his collar all the way down to the polished shine of his boots.
One of the competitors stepped up to the line and lifted his bow at the same moment a cool breeze tugged at the flags above the viewing stands, pulling them steadily to one side. The archer didn’t adjust.
“His arrow is going to veer right,” I said from behind Leopold. “He isn’t compensating for the wind.”
Leopold startled slightly and looked around. For a moment, his eyes skimmed right past me, searching for whoever had spoken. Then he looked back at the target just as the arrow flew and struck the far right side of the target.
Only then did he turn fully toward me.
His grey eyes moved over my face, then down my dress, then back up again. He smiled in a way that left me with no doubt that this was a spoiled little boy in a man’s body who always got everything he wanted.
“Beautiful and intelligent,” he said. His voice was smooth in a way that made me want to scrub the sound of his voice out of my ears after hearing it. “May I ask your name, my lady?”
“Just Isabella, sir. I have no title. I’m a servant at the castle here.” I began to curtsy, but he caught my hand before I could lower myself properly.
He bowed over it and pressed his lips to my fingers.
“Isabella, then,” he said, straightening. His smile widened. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Leopold the Sixth, son of Leopold the Fifth, Duke of Austria.”
“I know who you are,” I said, withdrawing my hand from his so I could dip into a curtsy. “My lord.”
The blasted corset made the movement far more difficult than it should have been. Every breath still felt slightly too shallow, and every time I bent, something new was pinched.
Leopold’s eyes gleamed with approval. “You know who I am?”
“You were announced at the beginning of the tournament,” I said. “You were easy to remember.”
That seemed to please him. He shifted aside and gestured for me to stand beside him, as though he were granting me some extraordinary honor. I stepped into place near the rope barrier, leaving enough space between us that he would have to make an obvious effort if he wanted to move closer.
“What brings you so far from home, my lord?” I asked with my brightest smile.
“Oh, just business,” he said lightly. “My father has matters to attend to here. Although I must say, I am enjoying the sights immensely.”
His gaze traveled slowly over my dress.
Ugh.
I knew this type of man too well. He was the sort who knew what to say to get women to fall at his feet, and he knew it too.
His self-satisfied smile told me that he was confident he would get whatever, and whomever, he wanted.
He was the sort who had been praised for every mediocre accomplishment since childhood until he began to believe that he could do no wrong.
Men like him were exhausting. But unfortunately, I also needed the information he had access to. I turned my attention back to the tournament as the next archer stepped up to the line. The bowstring creaked as he pulled it back, and the crowd hushed around us. Leopold edged closer.
“So, tell me,” he said, lowering his voice, “how do you know so much about archery?”
“Oh, I enjoy watching the men-at-arms practice sometimes,” I said innocently.
“Do you?” His eyes gleamed. “If you have the time, I would be more than happy to demonstrate my own prowess at arms.”
“My lord, you are too kind to offer and I wish I could accept,” I said, inclining my head. “But I’ve already taken up too much of your time today. A servant cannot occupy the attention of someone as important as yourself.”
Before he could answer, I turned neatly on my heel and walked away.
Always leave the audience wanting more, Dale had instructed the Merry Men over and over when he gave us lessons on acting and performance.
This was certainly a performance.
I walked back toward Aalis, carefully taking a path that kept me within Leopold’s view, but I didn’t look back at him.
Trumpets blared again. The archery portion was over, and the champion was handed a rose. He walked over to give it to a girl in the crowd, who immediately pressed both hands to her mouth and nodded.
When he presented the rose, she shyly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and handed him a handkerchief in return while the people around her cheered.
Then came javelin throwing, wrestling, and footraces.
Aalis was preoccupied with Conrad, and I tried not to impose on their time together.
It was actually sweet how they fumbled for words around each other and blushed constantly.
Baron and I hadn’t ever treated each other the way Aalis and Conrad did, but the girly part of me still wanted to feel Baron’s arms around me.
But no matter where I looked, it seemed that Baron wasn’t there. Maybe the rumors were wrong and Baron wasn’t supposed to be here at all. They hadn’t announced him as they had with the other important guests.
Where was he?
The sun blazed overhead, bright enough to make the colors of the tents hurt my eyes and the dust become visible in the air. My feet ached and gave occasional throbs as I tried to stay within visual range of Leopold all while looking for that familiar face and massive build.
I stopped my search for Baron when the announcer proclaimed that the next event was a melee and I curiously went back to watch.
Two teams of horsemen entered the field.
Their armor was not as decorative as the jousters’ had been, but their formations were far more interesting.
At the signal, the two groups crashed toward each other, not in single, one-to-one combat, but as teams. Their horses surged forward in a tight line with their shoulders nearly brushing.
Men on each side shouted commands and horse hooves tore clumps of grass from the field as they bore down on the opposing side.
Both teams attempted to stay in formation and force the other back, swiping and attacking while also defending at the same time.
It was fascinating. I had never fought as part of a cohesive team. The Merry Men were very individualized when it came to our fighting style and methods. We worked well together, but our tactics were nothing like this.
These men moved as a single unit. If one rider shifted, and the man beside him immediately adjusted to cover the gap. I found myself leaning closer, watching the way each team tried to split the other’s formation.
The next time the trumpets blared, the announcer’s voice boomed across the field. “Next up, our contestants for swordplay!”
The spectators murmured eagerly and crowded close for the popular event as the next line of contestants marched onto the field.
The announcer lifted both hands, waiting until the crowd settled.
“Before our swordplay begins, we ask you to join us in welcoming a new sheriff. As many of you know, the former sheriff of Nottingham served with loyalty and valor until his life was cruelly taken by Robin Hood and his so-called Merry Men.”
Boos erupted from the noble seating at once. A few people cursed my father’s name or spat upon the ground. I kept my face still.
The announcer waited for the noise to fade before continuing.
“Though it was a devastating blow, Nottingham will not be left without order. The former sheriff’s son has served beside him for many years, learning the duties of this office and proving himself prepared to continue his father’s work without interruption. ”
The crowd began clapping and the announcer raised his voice. “May I present your new Sheriff of Nottingham, Baron Blackwellson.”
One of the contestants, taller than the rest, stepped forward.
It was Baron.