Page 20 of Renaissance Bear

Everybody else was in it for the competition. Alis kept making herself take her eyes off Argent so she could pay attention to the people who might become her opponents. She liked to know what fighting styles she was facing before they met in the ring, and it had helped her win for years.

But Argent was such a smug bastard, she just wanted to punch him in the teeth with a gauntleted fist. Howdarehe pretend he was coming to her rescue by accusing Jon of dishonorable behavior! How dare he position himself as the hero, when she was already making her preferencesquite clear, thank you! And how dare he be so cavalier about defeating the Black Knight, when he'd failed to do so for five years running! Alis yanked her attention away from Argent again, scowlingthrough her helm's slender eye slits at the up-and-coming opponents.

Several of them were very good, and had put time and effort into their armor. Alis was preposterously grateful for the lightweight metal compounds available in the modern world. She might be a tall, strong woman, but the forty pounds of steel that knights of old wore would have dragged her down faster than she cared to think about. These days, the same kind of protection could be had for a lot less weight. One of the signs of somebody serious about the art of fighting was the quality of their armor.

Of course, it was also a terrible money pit, so there were a lot of people who were very serious about the tourneys who never went beyond the non-armored sword fights that Jon was participating in. Alis was lucky to have enough disposable income to spend on her dreams, although the flip side of that was she hadn't been on a vacation that wasn't to a ren faire since her whole family had gone to Disneyland for her and Jasmine's sixteenth birthday.

Jazz was over there waving a handkerchief and fluttering like a ditzy fair lady far better than Alis ever did. It was almost too bad her twin only wanted to spend a few hours a day, at most, doing faire activities. She was a much better actress than Alis herself was, and it was fun to watch her flirt coyly and swoon over the knights.

She probably would have a better way to handle Argent than 'break his teeth,' but Alis had needed to do such a quick change into the Black Knight's armor that she hadn't been able to ask for some sisterly advice. Maybe after the fight, which was coming up fast now. Alis rose, stretching, and a cheer went up for just that. A few minutes later, she and Argent were in the ring, both of them putting on a performance for the cat-calling crowd. Once in a while she would break away from the fight to play tothe audience, cupping a hand at her ear to suggest she couldn't hear them, or lifting her hands up, up, up again to encourage the cries. Argent did the same, although Alis didn't think she imagined that his supporters weren't as loud.

The second time she played to the crowd, Argent rushed her, despite the fact she'd left him gasping for air. She took a hell of a hit across her right ribcage, but didn't fall to the ground, which was clearly his hope. Then the battle was engaged again, swords slamming together, metal ringing, the ferocity of genuine dislike pushing the fight to new heights. Alis pulled a move she'd done with him before, sliding under his blade to twist back toward him with hers, and had just enough time to think:that was a mistake, before it all came crashing down.

It was something in his palm, a flash of incredibly bright white light that sliced through her visor and blinded her. She knew his moves well enough to block the first attack after that even with green and white brilliance wreaking havoc with her vision, but the second attack swept low, which Argent never did with opponents shorter than he. Alis's feet went out from under her, and though she rolled, she couldn't move fast enough: all at once, his blade was at her throat.

The exhibition fight was over.

She had lost.

"I can't even complain,"Alis growled to Jasmine later, as they pulled her armor off. "I can't keep my damn voice at a low enough pitch long enough to pass for male."

"You could tell the truth and shame the devil," Jasmine suggested. She was almost as angry as Alis. Maybe more so, having watched her twin go down in an ignominious heap andhaving been helpless to do anything about it, only to have it made worse by finding out Argent had cheated.

Alis groaned. "God, no, not now, not after a loss. If I'm going to do a dramatic reveal it's got to be on a massive win. Otherwise I'll always be the girl who lost to Lord Argent of Snottypantsshire."

Jasmine obviously couldn't help the laugh. "I'm going to start calling him that in public. I bet it'll catch on. But you could say you saw it from the stands," she said more seriously. "His back was to me right then, but you could say you say you saw him doing that earlier in the bout. He has to have tried more than once to catch you. That visor's really well designed to protect your eyes from flares."

"He probably did try, but what if he didn't?" Alis sighed. "I'm just going to have to be wary in the competition round and really humiliate him."

"That's my sweet, charming sister." Jasmine hugged Alis once they'd gotten all her armor off, then tilted her head back toward the fair. "Go find your sword boy and work out some of that frustration."

"Jasmine," Alis said with a gasp of mock shock. "Whatever are you suggesting?"

"Probably seeing who can drink who under the table," Jasmine said, and Alis laughed.

"He owns a brewery. I don't think I stand a chance. But, um, you know, I'll text if I'm not coming home tonight?"

"Yeah, you will, because you don't want your best sister to worry." Jasmine sighed heavily. "You're sure you're all right? He got a couple nasty hits in."

"I'll walk it off," Alis promised. "No, really, I'm okay. Thanks for worrying, though."

"As always. I'm going back to the RV to work after this, unless you need me around?"

"I'm good. Go do your genius stuff. I love you, Jazz."

"I love you too, you big weirdo." Jasmine began packing up her computer from their little changing-booth-tent as Alis made her way back to the faire proper, still fuming quietly over Argent's cheating. She should go to the Red Court to wrap up the evening performances, but if she had to see his face again right now, she was afraid she actually would punch that pointy nose. Somebodyhadbroken it, she recalled with delight. A couple of years earlier at a faire out East. After he'd beaten some young man in the unarmored division, the other guy had gotten one last hit in on Argent's helm, cracking his nose with the nose piece.

That made her feel quite a lot better, even though it probably shouldn't. And Lady Alessandra didn't know Argent had cheated, so she had to stop sulking and be charming and delightful and fluttery about how the Crimson Knight had defeated the Black in the exhibition round.

Well, maybe that was pushing it a little too far. Jasmine, as Alessandra, had given the Black Knight her favor anyway, so Alis didn't need toflutterabout Argent. She rejoined the Red Court at their magnificent tent, accepted a cold drink from somebody, and sat down for a moment to watch and listen.

The tent was huge, partitioned into a 'backstage' changing area and a main event space. The king and queen had thrones that could be rolled out of the tent for public scenes and proclamations, and there were other chairs scattered around the interior for the members of the court. Fans were set up in every corner so that the air moved, which helped a little with the heat. It was all lush and red and gold, keeping in theme with the court's title.

The Red Queen, a luminously gorgeous woman whose delicate crown nestled into cornrowed braids, was carrying one of those USB-powered hand fans and currently in conversationwith a small child who was arguing that it was modern technology, while the queen explained that she believed it to be astonishing magic created by the court sorcerer. Her husband, the Red King—and Alis thought they might actually be married—was a tall lean man whose black eyes sparkled as he listened to his queen explain the 'magic' of her fan. Their 'daughter,' Princess Cecilia, was a local woman whose real-life sister made perfume that everybody in the court tried to avoid wearing, because it was genuinely awful but nobody had the heart to tell her. The whole royal family were spectacularly dressed in the style of Henry the Eighth, showing off the same reds and golds that Alis wore.

In fact, the entire court was in red, so they could be easily identified as actors and performers at the faire, rather than 'commoners.' Alis looked better in green, and had badly wanted to buck the trend, but the whole point was to blend in. Drawing attention to herself could jeopardize her double life as the Black Knight, and it would be a shame to do that at this late stage.

The other court members ranged from kids who clearly belonged with some of the adults, to an elderly couple who had been participating in Renaissance's faire since it started more than thirty years ago. The man, Stuart, was currently playing the role of court sorcerer, and turned out to have a fantastic repertoire of magic tricks that ended up enthralling the argumentative child. Alis slid deeper in her chair, drinking what turned out to be a root beer, and watching with a smile.

---