Ser Jan the Brave, riding a huge black steed, took up position at one end of the tourney grounds, while Ser Erik Redmarch mounted his horse at the other.
“Ten gold marks on Ser Jan the Brave,” Petir said, raising his hand in the air and flicking the gold pieces between his fingers to try and tempt a challenger. But no one responded to his offer.
Jodie studied the other competitor, Ser Erik. The man was probably a foot shorter than Ser Jan, and his horse was far leaner. Ser Jan the Brave was clearly the knight to put money on.
“Ten gold marks on Ser Erik,” Jodie said.
Everybody turned to look at her, mouths agape. It was not a womanly custom to gamble, and to put money on the knight less likely to win was foolish.
Petir scoffed at his wife. “My lady, you must be joking.”
She stared directly into Petir’s eyes with a playful smile. “I never joke when it comes to winning.”
“It is not very womanly to bet on such things,” King Emery said, leaning over so as not to draw any more attention.
Jodie shrugged, playing none the wiser. “I used to gamble all the time back in Stonebridge, and there’s one thing I learned when betting with men- if a man is so sure of a competitor as to place a high wager on him, call his bet.”
“And why’s that?” Petir said.
“Because if the man wins, he will feel bad for taking a woman’s money. And if he loses, the woman scores a big win, and a piece of his pride.”
The bugles sounded as the joust began.
Petir laughed at his wife’s comment as if it were the silliest thing he’d ever heard.
“Either way,” Jodie said, “the woman wins. The risk is worth the potential reward.”
Both knights atop their destriers began riding towards each other, galloping faster as they approached the middle of the arena.
“Ten marks, I’m in as well,” Ciana said.
Petir gasped.
“Ciana!” Emery said, stunned. “No daughter of mine will be gambling today!”
Ciana ignored her father, standing up in excitement as the two knights neared each other. The steads galloped at full speed, the knights held their long lances in one hand, wooden shields in another.
The riders stayed on course, racing closer to the centre of the tourney grounds with the low-lying fence between them, keeping their tracks separated.
Jodie watched closely with eager eyes.
The horses reached the centre. The knights crossed lances.
A shower of wood splinters shot into the air as the lances shattered against targets. Ser Erik’s lance hit Ser Jan the Brave’s well-positioned shield, while Ser Jan hit Ser Erik dead centre in the chest.
Ser Erik flew backwards off his horse as he was struck, a large dent in his metal armour, before crashing to the ground in a puff of sand and dust.
The crowd cheered as the knight was unhorsed.
Petir stood up excitedly, raising his arms in the air and shouting in glee. “That will be ten gold marks, from each of you, thank you very much!” he laughed. “Most men may feel guilt over taking a woman’s gold, dear wife, but not I!”
Jodie smirked while Ciana rolled her eyes at her brother’s boasting. They each handed the pieces to Petir, under the judging glare of Emery.
The king was far too snobbish to be involved in gambling and was not at all impressed by the attention they had drawn to themselves.
Despite losing the gold marks, Jodie still felt she had won. As a woman, gambling against men always revealed their true nature, she had found, and information can be far more valuable than gold marks.
The injured Ser Erik was dragged off the arena grounds by his squire, clutching at his breastplate and groaning.
Woman swooned, throwing flowers to the victor. The herald announced the next pair of competitors, and the jousting went on long into the afternoon.
Petir continued to wager with other barons and nobles, ignoring his father’s disapproval. Jodie should have felt embarrassed by her husband’s actions, but truth be told, she could not care less if he made a fool of himself.
Jodie left her seat beside Petir and went to sit in Wesley’s empty spot next to Ciana.
At least she is more tolerable company.
The sweltering eastern sun was a little too much for Jodie. She had grown up in the cool, mountainous Midlands, where such heat was a rare occurrence.
A servant handed her a hand fan to cool herself down with. Other Anai servants went around with refreshments and platters of small servings of seafood, dipping sauce, nuts, and fruit.
By the time the melee had begun, Wesley had still not shown up. The red-faced King Tobius sent for a messenger to go look for him and request his immediate attendance.
The herald announced the next knights to duel. “Ser Faron Colt of Veridia versus Ser Keiren Withermane of Redwatch!”
The crowd cheered as the heavily armoured knights took up positions in the sandy arena. At the blast of the bugle, they began their melee.
“Where is the prince?” Ciana whispered in Jodie’s ear, sounding a little concerned.
“I don’t know.”
Even Jodie was starting to become anxious. Where could he possibly be?
The two duelling knights parried each other’s strikes with a clink of their swords. Ser Faron Colt used his shield to bash Ser Keiren away, followed by a quick counterattack. Tobius clapped as he drank from his goblet.
The messenger arrived back but was immediately stopped in his tracks by Ser Isec, who wanted to verify his identity before allowing him to approach the king. Tobius waved the messenger through; the young man was wide-eyed and out of breath.
“My king,” the messenger gasped, bowing.
“Yes, yes,
