Once upon a dreadful time

struck Blaise with a second major, and thus was awarded the contest.

Next came the melee, and for the first time, amid the chnkk!

and thdd! of padded weapons, Laurent was the champion.

By this time it was midafternoon, and the knights retired to their tents to prepare for the jousting.

. .

And a small girl bearing a bouquet of wildflowers wandered through the hustle and bustle of the grounds, as she made her way toward the arena. Finally, reaching her goal, she scanned the guests until she espied the one she sought. Then she turned and traipsed away.

. .

On Camille’s shoulder, Scruff suddenly perked up, and he grabbed a tress of Camille’s golden hair and repeatedly tugged.

“What is it, Scruff? What do you see?”

Scruff chirped excitedly.

Avelaine looked at the wee bird and then at Camille. “What is he doing?”

. .

Looking about to see that no one was nigh, the small girl set aside her flowers, and reached up to her neck and took out a vial. “Remember, my love,” she muttered, “you need to cast a glamour to disguise the dress.” Then she drank down the contents and tossed the vial aside.

. .

“Scruff only does this when he senses a peril of some sort,” said Camille.

“What peril?” asked Avelaine, looking about.

Camille’s own gaze sought the cause. “I do not know.”

“Should we tell the king?”

“Oui.”

. .

There sounded a soft step at the entry to Luc’s tent. Luc turned about to see Liaze. “Come to wish me luck?”

“Oui, beloved, I do, and yet I come for another reason as well.”

“Another reason?” He reached for her, and she came into his arms willingly. “And what might that be?” he whispered.

She gave a low throaty laugh, but then turned serious. “The amulet, the key. I wouldn’t wish it to take damage in the joust.

It is too important. Let me wear it as your favor, just as you wear mine.”

“It’s never been damaged before,” said Luc.

“Nevertheless, my love.”

“If you insist,” said Luc, and he released her and lifted the chain over his head. “Here, I give this to you willingly.” She took the talisman and looped it about her own neck.

From the arena sounded the trumpets; ’twas the signal for the knights to assemble.

“ ’Tis the call to arms,” said Luc.

“Good fortune, my love,” said she.

Luc turned to the table and took up his gauntlets. “Victory this time might be more difficult, for the three brothers have been-” He looked back, but she was gone.

. .

“What do you think it is he senses?” asked Valeray.

“I know not,” said Camille.

Of a sudden Scruff took to wing, and he arrowed toward the dawnwise end of the arena, and in that same moment a crow flew up just beyond. Swiftly did the sparrow fly, but swifter was the crow, and it soon outdistanced the wee bird.

“Ah, ’twas a crow,” said Valeray, relaxing back into his chair.

Camille frowned, but said nought.

In that moment and amid a fanfare of trumpets, the four knights on their magnificent steeds entered the arena-two from the duskwise end, two from the one dawnwise-and a great roar rose up from the crowd.

“Oh, isn’t my Roel quite splendid?” said Celeste, looking leftward, duskwise.

“As is my Luc,” said Liaze, taking her seat and looking rightward instead.

Disaster

Disgruntled and chirping querulously, Scruff returned to Camille’s shoulder, the wee bird agitated to a degree she had not seen since a time seasons past when she and the bird had found themselves on an island infested by Redcap Goblins and monstrous Trolls.

“My lord,” said Camille to Valeray, “I think Scruff would not be this disturbed were that a mere crow.”

“Think you it was a Changeling?”

“I know not, my lord, but whatever it was, it upset Scruff mightily.”

A second flourish of trumpets sounded, and Camille turned to see Luc, Roel, Blaise, and Laurent rein up before the royal box. Still troubled, she sat in deference to the formalities.

Colorful were the knights: a blue surcoat graced Luc, and he bore a blue shield with a red rose emblem thereon, both colors marking his demesne, but his black horse-Deadly Nightshade-was caparisoned in scarlet, to represent the Autumnwood; Roel and his pale grey horse were garbed in light green to mark the Springwood, and Roel bore a like-hued green shield embellished with a pale cherry blossom; Laurent wore a white surcoat, and his white horse was draped in white as well, and he bore a dark shield marked with a white snow crystal, and he represented the Winterwood; finally, Blaise was garbed in yellow, as was his dark grey steed, and his yellow shield bore the emblem of an oak leaf, representing the Summerwood.

“My lord, my lady,” said Luc, and he dipped his lance in salute, as did the other three chevaliers.

The king and queen both inclined their heads in acknowledgement, and Valeray said, “Knights, you honor us with your combat. Take your positions, ride with pride and nobility, and may the best man”-Valeray grinned-“or perhaps the luckiest, prevail on this day.” Raising their lances, they wheeled their steeds and rode to opposite ends of the field: Luc and Laurent to the dawnwise end; Roel and Blaise, duskwise.

And the crowd cheered lustily, various voices therein calling out white, or gold, or green, or blue.

In the first of the rounds, Luc had drawn Blaise, and Roel had drawn Laurent. And at the sound of the trumpets, Luc and Blaise were first in the lists, and they rode to take station. All eyes were on Queen Saissa, and she raised a hand holding a filmy scarf, and with it she signaled for the tilt to begin.

With horses belling in excitement, shields up, lances lowered, Luc and Blaise charged one another. Each ran at a gallop, sawdust and wood curls flying up from hooves, and the crowd roared in anticipation. In spite of the padded tips, with thunderous clangs! lances met shields. Blaise’s shaft shivered into splinters, and Luc was rocked back, his own lance glancing awry ’gainst Blaise’s dark shield. And a great shout went up, for it looked as if Luc would be unhorsed. Yet Luc recovered even as the steeds hammered onward.

Each rode to the end of the lists, and Blaise cast aside the remains of his broken lance and took up another from the attendant acting as his squire.

’Round they wheeled, did the knights, and again they charged, the blue chevalier against the gold, the black horse against the dark grey steed.

Once more with a blang! the two crashed together, and this time Luc’s shaft struck the oakleaf square, while Blaise’s slid off the rose. Blaise was hammered back and, in spite of his efforts, he was knocked from his saddle to land in the sawdust and shavings below.

Cheers sounded as well as groans, and a goodly number of coins changed hands.

Luc rode ’round the end of the lists and back to Blaise, and he gave the unhorsed knight a stirrup and an arm, and Blaise swung up behind. They rode to where the dark grey steed had stopped. Blaise slid from the back of Nightshade, and bowed to Luc, then mounted his own animal.