Joust of Hearts Read Online Free Page B

can walk, you’ve employed my metal skillfully.” Devin ruffled his squire’s hair.
    Parker batted his hands away with a muttered curse.
    After Devin’s horse was saddled and suited, Parker helped with Devin’s helmet, but not before Devin took one final glance toward the Bergavnys’ dais.
    Likely referring to the storyteller that held Devin’s attention, Parker warned, “She was pleasing to look upon my lord, but mind thee about the games. A knight needs not a maid to distract him.”
    Devin chuckled. “You, Parker, have much to learn yet. There is none so satisfying a distraction as a beautiful woman and the promise of evening pleasures that sparkle in her eyes.”
    “Has the great Sir Devin, the Black Knight, been reading poetry, then?” Parker mocked.
    “I have no need of poetry when the truth will suffice. Now gather my lances or next time I come across a leather-bound manuscript, I shall throw it at your head.”
    His squire laughed and vowed to continue their verbal repartee on a more convenient occasion.
     
    The participating knights on horseback assembled in front of the pavilion as if Lord and Lady Bergavny were the King and Queen. All knights gave a salute with their swords. Then the lord leaned forward and raised his hand in approval.
    Fitzherbert turned to Helena and asked, “Whom shall you favor this day, my love?”
    “’Tis a difficult task to choose but one. Perhaps Lady Melisande would take my place in the championing of a knight?” She turned to Melisande with a gleam in her eye.
    Melisande’s stomach lurched in shock. “In sooth I could not,” she refused politely, not wishing to be disrespectful to her hosts.
    “But I insist. Come, come. Whom shall you choose?” Helena persisted.
    Fitzherbert spoke to Melisande beyond Helena in a mock whisper. “My dear, ’tis always wise to follow as Helena instructs, that is what I find,” he said, mirth ringing in his voice. As Fitzherbert reclined back in his chair, Helena stole a sideways glance at her husband and kissed the air in his direction. The love they shared, even at their age, was unmistakable.
    “Very well then, I shall do it for you, Lord Bergavny.” Melisande nodded a bow.
    From her belt Melisande pulled a dark gray satin ribbon. She stood, looked over the knights and pictured her shriveled-up husband, barely able to sit erect enough to see out of the sights in his visor. All were polished and adorned with colorful plumes on their helms, and emblems on their mighty shields. One of the knights wore blackened chain mail. In fact, his entire suit was such, save the silver etchings and roped edges. His plume was black, his coat of arms was mostly black—though the outline of the snarling panther’s head was white—even his dark gray stallion was draped in flowing black satin. Between the rider and his horse, they seemed to match her pessimistic mood perfectly.
    Melisande stepped forward and crooked her finger at the knight in black. He moved his mount next to the platform and leaned toward her. She bent to meet him halfway and tied the ribbon at the base of the black plume of the knight’s helm. The knight backed his steed away from the pavilion and saluted the lady whose colors he now wore.
    The salute was magnificent. The knight grunted a command to his steed and the horse tucked one of his front hooves under while stretching his other front leg as far forward as was possible. When the horse’s nose practically rested on the ground, the knight remained upright in the saddle, holding the hilt of his sword over his heart. All those along the lists were stunned into silence. When a few moments had passed, the knight grunted a second command and the horse returned to its upright position. After an explosion of cheers from the crowd at the sight of the tribute to the Bergavnys’ guest, the other knights paraded around to gain favors for themselves.
    “Splendid choice, Lady Dupree, and how fortuitous. The Black Knight is