“Shouldn’t take long. Why would you want to do that? The decoration makes it much more valuable.”
He wanted to do that so it would not be recognizable.
Elinor folded the silk veil into a little pile. Almost weightless, it did not take up much space. Nor did it wrinkle, she had learned while she sewed it. Small wonder that silk was prized.
She had seen her father return from somewhere early in the morning, as soon as she had risen. Now he had gone to watch the combats again. She tidied up the tent and began planning how to pack everything for the journey back home. She would be glad to get him away from here, and from those men who had plans she dared not name.
She wondered if her father had already found a cart to take them. If not, she must do that soon, or there would be none left.
The flap opened. Zander entered. The flames in his eyes made her pause, but he came over and gave her a kiss, then called for Angus to join him. “Where are your father’s arms, Elinor?”
“Over here.” She showed them the chest.
Angus threw it open. Piece by piece, he removed it, eyeing each one. He made two stacks on the ground.
“This here is fine. This group here has some rusted links and others that are broken.”
Zander looked down at it. Then he crouched by the chest and poked through it. He stood.
“Bring it in, Angus.”
Angus left and returned with pieces of armor. Zander took them and laid them down next to the chest. “Tell him a knight left it. Tell him you don’t know the knight’s name.”
She looked at that plate. “Why does it matter? Has he challenged someone?”
Zander just looked at her.
Her heart sank. “Oh, heavens.” He had gone and done it after all. She had hoped as the week passed and he did not fight that he would never fight anyone, let alone Zander.
“I’ll not have him meet me unprepared. Angus will take the mail to the forge to be repaired, then bring it back. Do not let your father’s pride prevent him from arming himself well, Elinor. Tell him that the knight said he wanted to see John’s supporters triumph on the field. Then he may not see the plate as charity.”
She could barely breathe. She waited for Angus to leave with the mail, then said “My father is in no condition—”
“I do not get to decide if the knights I meet are fit for it, unfortunately.”
“Don’t you? You can refuse, can you not?”
“I have agreed to take all challenges. To refuse his would be cowardly. Should I prove what he accused me of at that dinner is true?”
“Everyone knows you are no coward.”
“Only because I do not refuse challenges,” he said firmly. “Do not pretend you do not know how it is, Elinor.”
She knew how it was. Already worry sickened her, and it would only get worse. “When?”
“Late afternoon. It will be among the last of the day.” He embraced her.
She hugged him hard and buried her face in his tunic. “Can you defeat him without hurting him? As you did that Scot?” She saw that combat again, and Zander wielding his sword for over an hour until he brought that Scot down even after being wounded and having no shield. Surely, such a knight could humble her father without bloodshed or sad humiliation.
When he did not answer, she lifted her head and looked at him. She saw beauty and anger, and determination and. . . sadness. “What are you not telling me?”
He kissed her gently, then took her face in his hands and looked at her. “Your father went to Lord Yves and demanded personal combat with me, à l'outrance. Lord Yves has permitted it.”
Tears welled at the word. To the death. That combat would be horrible, and tragic for her no matter how it ended. One of the men she loved was supposed to die at the hands of the other.
“I will not allow him to do this.”
“Stop it if you can, darling. I urged Lord Yves to refuse. Since he did not—”
It would happen. Today. By dusk, she would be in mourning.
“I must go,” he said, setting her away from him.
“Will I see you before—”
“No.”
She ran to her sewing and brought the veil to him. “It is done. You should have it now, in case . . .” She almost laughed at herself, bitterly. In case he was killed? This would never end that way. They both knew that.
He tucked the veil into his tunic and opened the flap. The midday sun fell on him, and she clearly saw the knight in him. Already he was hardening, preparing for what the day would bring.
“Zander, if at all possible. . .” She did not know the words for such a request.
He reached over and caressed her face. He turned to leave, then faced her again. “Ask him to tell you again about that day he says he was abandoned by me and the others. Maybe he will remember the truth, and not feel the need for vengeance.”
His morning challenge ended fast. Angus stripped the armor and mail off him quickly once they returned to the tent. “You should eat and rest.”
“I will, but now I am going to the castle.”
“You think to convince Lord Yves to change his mind?”
Zander did not know what he thought. He only knew that nothing would change if he remained in this camp.
He rode his palfrey through the gate and guided it through the lanes of the town. He stopped at the mercer’s where Elinor had bought her thread and purchased more steel needles for her. In the small yard in front of the church, peddlers of luxuries had set up small shacks as temporary shops. They had requested this privilege, so their expensive goods would not be vulnerable to theft out on the field.
He had seen great luxuries before, so he was not
