Chapter Four
“Father, I demand you stop this now!”
Edward tore his gaze away from the exciting spectacle, shocked to discover his daughter near tears. His brow furrowed unsympathetically. “Summer, what is the matter?”
“This,” she jabbed a slender finger toward the bleeding, writhing mass in the center of the field. “Men are d-dying in there!”
Edward forced himself to pat his daughter’s hand in a feeble attempt to calm her. “No one is dying. It is all a great competition of skill and talent.”
Summer yanked her hand away from her father, exasperated that the man failed to see the seriousness of the situation. Turning to Genisa, she attempted to gain a measure of support for her protest. “And you? How can you enjoy this travesty?”
Genisa looked shocked and remorseful at the same time. “What’s the matter with you, Summer? I thought you were excited about this.”
Sensing she would receive little backing from her sister-in-law, Summer frowned with dismay; no one seemed to understand her concern and that, in turn, greatly distressed her.
As she contemplated the blood-thirsty side to Genisa and her father she had never known to exist, another harrowing cry emitted from the battlefield and she turned in time to observe a massive green and yellow charger list heavily to one side.
Bearing down upon the toppling beast was none other than the mighty Gorgon himself.
All thoughts of terror faded for the moment as Summer watched Bose wield his broadsword high, bringing down blow after powerful blow upon a man astride the collapsing destrier.
In fact, it seemed that Bose was actually pushing the horse and rider to the ground with his tremendous strength, and Summer winced when the final blow from Bose’s powerful sword sent the man to the ground once and for all.
It had been quick, bloodless and swift. Somehow, Bose’s battle hadn’t been a fight to the death and Summer found her distaste for the game oddly eased.
As she continued to watch the massive warrior astride the black and white charger, Bose turned to the man next to him and plowed through the unfortunate knight as if he were no more than a child.
Summer observed with a mixture of fear and fascination as Bose bloodlessly unseated yet another hapless victim. With an additional rival sent to the earth, he appeared to pause slightly to discern just who would be his next casualty. As Summer watched, he moved directly for a red and white charger.
“He’s going after Stephan!” Genisa’s cry suddenly mingled amongst the shouting of the crowd. “Stay away from him, you beast! Stay away from my husband!”
Summer watched intently as Bose and Stephan exchanged brutal sword blows.
Metal against metal, strength against strength, the two men battled furiously as their chargers screamed and snapped at one another.
Genisa gasped with terror as Summer continued to observe, frozen in a world of awe and apprehension as the ruthless battle waged before her.
As other horses crashed to the ground and knights were summarily dishonored by being unseated from their mounts, Stephan and Bose appeared to do battle much longer than was usual for a single bout.
They continued to hack away at one another as their horses turned circles upon the earth, screaming and grunting in the heat of battle.
Summer forgot her distaste for the melee; watching Stephan and Bose compete in a fierce battle was exactly as she had imagined the tournament to be.
Now, finally, she was glimpsing the essence of the games within the powerful blows and deft skills of her brother and Bose de Moray.
No injured horses, no flowing blood, only talent and knightly prowess as it was meant to be.
This, she decided, was definitely worth watching.
Summer was hardly aware when the field cleared, leaving Stephan and Bose to do final battle as if they were Lucifer and Gabriel.
With their comrades shouting encouragement from the sidelines, Summer could do nothing more than watch the brilliant demonstration of mastery, knowing how fatigued the warriors must be but neither willing to concede defeat.
Certainly, Stephan considered himself the best competitor in the realm.
And, undoubtedly, Bose considered himself the same.
More hacking, more grunting, until finally, a broadsword clattered to the earth.
It was Stephan’s.
Genisa whimpered as her husband struggled to regain the mace secured to his saddle, dodging some of Bose’s heavy blows but absorbing others.
It was only a matter of time before Bose was able to unbalance Stephan enough to give him a hard shove and send him smashing to the earth.
As a roar of victory went up from the lodges and sidelines alike, the knights on Bose’s team congratulated their victor for a job well done and Summer could not help but cheer for him as well.
Her applause, in fact, was the only praise Bose heard.
Aye, he had seen her seated at the edge of the lodges with Stephan’s wife and Lord du Bonne.
He could not keep his eyes from her as the competition began, coming dangerously close twice to being pummeled.
But in the heat of the battle, he had overcome the distraction caused by the lady’s lovely presence and had delved into the melee with his customary vengeance.
One man, two men, five… all of them had succumbed to the Gorgon’s mighty sword.
Including Stephan; Bose had already disposed of Ian when he sought out the man’s older brother, purposely targeting him in the midst of the chaos.
He knew that Summer would be monitoring her brother’s progress and Bose intended that she should see him as well, even if he was intent to do away with her beloved sibling.
Even as he saw her sitting in the lists, a faint sea breeze gently lifting tendrils of honey-blond hair, he had no idea what sentiment was stirring deep within his heart, but he knew enough to realize that they were emotions he had only experienced once in his life, when he had met his Lora.
He felt sick to his stomach when he realized that even the initial attraction he had held for his wife was nothing compared to what he was feeling for Summer du Bonne.
What he was experiencing for her was something different altogether.
It was a confusion that grew and eased all at the same time when he briefly considered allowing Stephan to win the bout simply so his sister would not be disappointed.
Stephan had fought admirably until the end, when he suddenly listed dangerously and Bose was forced to end the match.
Had he grasped Stephan by the arm to right the man, it would have appeared extremely suspicious.
Therefore, he did what was required. He shoved Stephan to the ground.
And his sister had cheered. Even now as he turned in the direction of the lodges, he could see that she was clapping boldly for him, her exquisite face graced with a smile. When Stephan rose unsteadily to his feet, Bose was scarcely aware of the man’s words of praise.
“Congratulations, my lord,” Stephan said amiably. “I do suppose now I am required to pay your ransom.”
Bose continued to stare at Summer, smiling broadly underneath the red and white canopy.
God help him, the longer he stared at her, the more forcefully his heart pounded.
After a lengthy moment of gazing upon her beauty, he tore his eyes away from the captivating vision long enough to focus upon his opponent.
“No ransom, du Bonne,” his baritone voice was quiet. “I would ask a favor instead.”
Stephan raised the visor to his three-piece helm, his flushed face curious. “God’s Blood, man, by all means. What is this favor?”
Bose felt like a fool; an immature, giddy fool. Beneath the visor, he could feel the embarrassing flush and it took far more courage than he imagined to bring forth the request.
“Your sister…,” his voice was barely audible. “Does she have a champion this day?”
Stephan stared at him a moment. Then, slowly, he shook his head. “Nay, she does not.”
Bose swallowed. “Would you be so kind as to ask her if she would permit me to wear her favor? I would be greatly honored.”
Stephan continued to gaze at the man, torn between the thrill of his interest and the desire to protect his baby sister.
Yesterday, he had given little thought to de Moray’s flattery toward his sister when they had been unexpectedly introduced and found himself sorely regretting his lack of foresight.
From the sheer tone of the knight’s voice, he should have understood the interest.
But he had not. In truth, it had never occurred to him given de Moray’s stand-offish reputation; never once had he seen the man with one of the many women who were intent to pursue him.
Which was why Bose’s expressed interest came as something of a shock; God’s Blood, how Stephan wished another man had voiced his regard for Summer, a noble knight who could be easily discouraged.
De Moray, however, was another matter. Stephan had first heard the rumors regarding the man’s reputation shortly after the knight had joined the tournament circuit; dark, evil implications that were difficult to ignore.
But Stephan had never given much thought to the vicious gossip until this moment.
After a brief pause, Stephan shook his head slowly. “I am afraid I cannot grant your request, my lord. If you will name your ransom, I shall be more than willing to pay.”
Beneath the visor, Bose was not shocked by Stephan’s denial. But he was extremely disappointed. Struggling to keep an even manner, he raised his visor beneath the light of the radiant sun; rivers of sweat bathed his stubbled face as black eyes focused intently upon their bright green counterparts.