He dressed and began mounting the stairs to the solar. He would have to go out to the camp after this and prepare for a challenge this morning. He also needed to tell Angus to do a few things for him.
A page escorted him into the solar. The big window was open, permitting a fresh breeze to flow. Lord Yves sat in a fine chair in front of them. Standing to the side was Sir Hugo.
“Join us, Sir Alexander,” Lord Yves said. “I’ve a decision to make, and you should be here when I do.”
Zander advanced until he stood in front of Lord Yves.
His host pointed to his left. “Sir Hugo has come to request a challenge against you.”
“He had only to go to my camp and tell my squire.”
“It is not that simple. I must approve certain challenges for personal combat. Those à l'outrance, for example, which is what he demands.”
Zander turned on Sir Hugo. “This is madness.”
“I’ll let God decide that.”
“Men favored by God die in battle all the time. It is the same at tournaments.” He turned back to Lord Yves. “You must refuse him this request.”
Lord Yves made a steeple out of his fingers, with the tips on his mouth. He thought about that. “He has a strong argument with you. I cannot ignore his accusations.”
He repeated what Sir Hugo had said, while Sir Hugo stood there glowering. Zander had heard it all before and was tired of the lies.
“Tell him the truth, Sir Hugo. That was not how it happened, and you know it.”
“It is. Do you now also insult me by saying I am lying?”
“Not lying. Just being forgetful.”
“My memory is good enough to remember treachery such as yours.”
Zander turned to Lord Yves. “We were getting him out. I was helping him. Then he broke away and ran back. We had passed a group of fallen Saracens and some had helmets and swords decorated in gold. He wanted the spoils and left us in order to collect them.”
Sir Hugo’s face reddened. “Lies!”
Zander ignored him. “It is the truth, I swear to you.”
Sir Hugo grew agitated. He looked worried. “There is more that I did not say before. A new cause.”
“What is that?” Lord Yves asked.
“I have good reason to believe he has dishonored my daughter, and thereby me and my family.”
Zander gritted his teeth. The devil take the man. He had just ruined his own daughter for the chance to fight this combat.
Lord Yves’s heavily lidded gaze swung slowly to Zander. He looked right into Zander’s eyes. Zander returned a steady gaze of his own, but he doubted Lord Yves concluded he was innocent.
Lord Yves turned to Sir Hugo. “You witnessed this?”
“No, but—”
“Others did?”
Hugo shook his head.
“I have decreed that the reason for combat à l'outrance must be announced. I will not have a woman’s name stained on nothing more than a father’s suspicions. That cause is rejected.”
Hugo huffed and frowned and got red again.
“As for the other, you each have a story and I am not the man to choose which is true. I will permit the combat à l'outrance on that cause, Sir Hugo.”
Beaming with satisfaction, Sir Hugo left the solar. Zander glared at Lord Yves. “You as good as signed a death warrant. He is unable to compete.”
“You mean that leg? He won’t be using it much.”
“It isn’t just that.”
“Ah, you assume his age will defeat him. You think he is too old.”
Far too old. Zander swallowed the response. Lord Yves was of similar age to Sir Hugo. His host probably would not take well to arguments that knights lost their prowess once they passed five and thirty.
“There is one other combat à l'outrance so far. They will all take place late this afternoon after the other combats are done. The priest will come to you before they start.”
Zander stormed from the solar. Now he had to figure out how to win, but still not kill his opponent in a fight to the death.
“You’ve an ugly scowl on your face,” Angus observed as soon as Zander entered his tent on the field.
“I’ve got an uglier one in my soul.” He wanted to kick something, like the useless Harold, who still lay asleep on his pallet. He resorted to a firm nudge instead. “Get up. Take the bladders and fill them with water. Then go to the paddock and groom my destrier.”
Harold ran out, watching as he passed for a blow that might be coming.
Zander crossed his arms, still furious.
“What happened?” Angus asked.
“That fool Sir Hugo asked for combat à l'outrance.”
“Is he looking to die? Some knights when they get older—"
“I think he believes he can win.”
“Unlikely.”
“Unlikely? Impossible.”
Angus tilted his head. “No need to tempt fate by saying impossible. Unlikely is good enough. Makes me sad for the woman who was here when you were wounded. His daughter, wasn’t it? What will become of her if he dies?”
“I will take care of her.” It came out too fast, too sure. Angus gave him a quizzical look. “Not that she will allow it if I kill her father. That is very unlikely.”
“Impossible.” Angus smiled as he threw the word back.
“Only heaven knows when Hugo last practiced at arms. When he was younger he was a fine warrior. Even when I became a squire. Now, besides his bad leg and vision, maybe even his sword arm is weak. I am going to tell the priest that and ask him to remind Hugo that taking one’s own life is a serious sin.”
“He’s not planning on doing that. He’s planning on killing you. You and I both know he will die, but that’s not the same as falling on his sword.”
No, it wasn’t. Damn. Damn, damn, damn.
He strode over to where the Scot’s arms lay. He lifted the shoulder plate. “Can
