Chapter 5
Chapter Five
The Chevalerie sword fighting tournament blazed through the town at the end of every summer.
What had begun as a regional display of skills and power, had grown into a massive competition in which rivalries were settled, alliances strengthened, and entire wars were avoided.
It wasn’t just entertainment; it was one of the most important political events of the year.
All put together by the Duke and Duchess.
Around the Chevalerie city walls, contenders, merchants, and spectators camped for days before the event, painting the valley into a tapestry of multicolored tents that displayed the colors of families and cities from hundreds of miles away.
The camps butted right up to the base of the city walls, topped with its own blue and gold flags and banners.
South of the valley, set high on a hill, was the ducal palace presiding over the town.
To the far north was the massive circular arena where the event was held, which had stood since the Romans had settled the city a thousand years before.
The morning of the competition, Alex denied passage with the Duke and Duchess in favor of travelling the streets herself and experiencing the festivity.
As she wandered towards the arena, she was fascinated by the exhilaration flowing through the streets.
The marketplace was more chaotic than she had ever seen it.
The churches were overflowing with last-minute prayers for victory, while gamblers spewed odds at everyone passing by.
By mid-morning and just before the games were to begin, Alex arrived at the base of the arena, where the fervor was at its peak.
People wove around each other, clogging the walkways.
Meat roasted on spits, singing rained down from balconies, children squealed and tumbled through the crowds.
The air was heavy with sweat and excitement.
On the steps of the arena, a juggler whooped and tossed knives, trying to steal the crowd’s attention from a troubadour orating a story of the great warriors who had battled in the arena.
To the left, two women used liquid dyes to paint a man’s chest with Chevalerie’s city colors.
In the shadows were lovers, tangled up together, not at all hidden.
Caught off guard, Alex watched for a moment until a toothless old lady knocked into her and thrust a bite-sized piece of honeyed bread into her hand and then demanded a coin.
Alex dug for her coin purse before entering the stone arches that would lead her to the Duke’s private entrance.
As she entered the arena, she nibbled on the sweet bread, enjoying it so much she licked every drop of honey from her fingers.
The stairwell funneled the commoners towards the unnumbered seats below and the lords and ladies to the ticketed seats above.
The stone of the stairwell was cool against the warm morning and Alex ran her hand along the walls, anchoring herself, as other spectators jostled her along.
She remembered the last time she had entered this arena.
Then, she had climbed down, below the penny seats, into the bowels of the arena that boiled with the fever of those who came for glory.
She’d been filled with a hatred then that, to this day, left her scarred.
But now, she climbed and climbed until she reached the grand entrance, the one reserved for dignitaries, royals, and special guests of the Duke and Duchess.
She greeted the guards and was allowed through the final archway that led to the private seats.
The Duke and the Duchess were seated along with other town officials.
Philippe was there too, at the far end, but she didn’t look at him.
The Duke and Duchess rose, and Philippe stepped up behind them to welcome her.
“Did you enjoy the fairgrounds, mademoiselle,” said the Duke, greeting her with a kiss on the hand.
“Yes, of course,” said Alex with a small smile. Such formal greetings always made her feel silly. She took her seat next to the Duchess, purposely sitting far from Philippe “But, I believe the excitement has gotten the best of some of your citizens.”
“Ah, let them enjoy,” the Duke said. “It is these freedoms I must protect.” He turned to Alex.
“I hate to bring up the mission while we are here for the enjoyment of the games, but you must understand my race with time. If the attacks from the North reach here, the cogs of this city will halt. We connect the East and the West. Look at these people.” He cast his hand out towards the arena.
“The diversity. I dare say all of France could fall if this city is compromised.” He nodded his head in encouragement.
“You must guide this journey well, young lady.”
“I will do my very best, My Lord,” Alex replied. While she dreaded the very idea of this journey, now that she knew Philippe was leading it, she pasted a confident smile on her face. She did not want to let the Duke down, as he had always been so good to her.
She trusted the Duke and his instincts. She knew that he had been very careful and deliberate in his selection of men to go north.
Ten soldiers had been hired, and they had met together as a group over the last few days.
Many of the men had fought beside Philippe in skirmishes with the barbarians throughout the mountain ranges.
They were a mix of pikemen and musketeers from both the King’s and the Duke’s army, all battle-scarred and looking for action.
There was nineteen-year-old Claude who she remembered from her swordsmanship classes; he could barely lift his sword as a child.
He didn’t look much stronger now but was said to be quite accurate with a bow and arrow.
The oldest of the group was Henri the mapmaker, in his forties, who was known to have a nasty dependence on whores and gambling but was otherwise reliable and always in need of work.
Philippe’s cousin Laurent would be his second in command, a man Alex had met several times growing up.
Two brothers, Bernard and Luc, had a set of matching lazy eyes and were known in Chevalerie to take to the bottle.
Young Sébastien looked up hard to Philippe, and Maurice seemed sneaky but otherwise jovial and entertaining. Alex was the sole mercenary.
Then there was Philippe, their leader, she thought with a sickening twirl to her stomach.
She had wondered how well Philippe could manage the group of men, him being younger than many of them, and far more privileged.
Part of her hoped he would prove ineffective and get overrun by his recruits, but after mere minutes of meeting as a group, she could feel the strength of his leadership and the respect he garnered.
He had undeniable authority and spoke with knowledge and confidence.
The guide in her was relieved. The woman in her was pissed.
After that kiss they had shared in the training room, she had decided to erase him from her consciousness.
It was a shame because their brief contact had caused a waterfall of emotions inside of her.
But, once again, he managed to make her feel stupid and weak like no one else ever had.
The worst thing was, it was all her fault.
She had invited the attention the moment she’d entered town, when she had winked at him…
and then straddled and licked him in the stables.
She wanted to beat her own ass over her shameful behavior.
Horns blew from the arena floor and a shock of excitement rattled the stands.
Alex bit her lip in enthusiasm as she watched the line of guards parade onto the stadium floor.
From the side, she could feel Philippe staring at her, or at least she thought she could.
But she kept her eyes trained ahead. Down below, the guards positioned themselves into tight military lines.
On command, they raised their pikes and dropped to one knee.
Cheers from the stands exploded to the heavens.
Then Monsieur Perrault walked to the center of the ring and stood before the soldiers.
He raised his hand to hush the crowd. A young boy knelt and presented him with a great scroll and a velvet bag which held the names of the contenders. Excitement smoldered in the air.
“A little different than last time you were here?” The Duchess whispered to Alex with a smile.
“Very much,” Alex nodded with a laugh.
The Duchess squeezed Alex’s knee, and Alex watched as the games commenced.
“On this day, thirty-three years ago...” began Monsieur Perrault.