Page 145 of The Robber Knight
Sir Wilhelm clamped his lips together, hiseyes blazing up at Reuben with the determination of hatred. Reubenslid his sword up the knight's neck, until it was clear of theprotective chain mail and rested against bare skin. Reuben presseddown a little harder.
Finally, Sir Wilhelm managed to unclench histeeth. “I... most humbly apologize... for the unjust insult done toyou... in regard to your noble parentage...”
“Very good. Very good indeed. Go on, you’realmost done.”
“...and swear on my honor as a knight... thatI shall refrain from a repetition of such unchivalrous behavior...in the future.”
“There!” Smiling happily, Reuben withdrew thesword. “That wasn't so hard, now, was it? Now that the laws ofchivalry are satisfied, the whole thing can be forgiven andforgotten.” He held out a hand to Sir Wilhelm to help him up. “I'msure tomorrow we'll be the best of friends.”
Ignoring the hand, Sir Wilhelm got to hisfeet, gave Reuben a last, hate-filled glare, and spat in front ofhim on the ground. Then he turned and marched away.
“Well, maybe it'll take until the day after,”Reuben mused.
“Sir Reuben? Sir Reuben, could you pleasemake way for the next two contestants?” The herald had appearedbeside him, sweating efficiency.
“Of course.” Reuben gave a gracious littlebow. “Thank you for allowing me to resolve my little disagreementwith Sir Wilhelm.” He turned to the stands and performed another,deeper bow. “Thanks to you also, for patience. Palermo is thekindest, most beautiful city I have ever had the pleasure to visit.And its ladies are the most beautiful creatures inChristendom.”
He let his gaze slide briefly over thespectators, giving them his most charming, brightly shining smile.Later, every lady in the audience would swear it was onherthat his eyes had come to rest.Imagination was a wonderful thing.
The next two contestants, two of the youngwine lovers in armor, had a hard time attracting the attention ofthe audience. At least half of it—the female half—was staring offto the side, where Reuben sat among the other knights, busypolishing an imaginary stain on his helmet. The next two youngknights who fought against each other suffered similar neglect. Bythe time one of the young knights had managed to knock the otheroff his horse, several of the ladies among the spectators, stilllooking off to the side, had started suffering from neckcramps.
“Next,” the herald called out, “Sir Romano diTrucco against Sir Hermann von der Hagen, Knight Brother of theOrdo domus Sanctæ Mariæ TheutonicorumHierosolymitanorum.”
Reluctantly, a few female eyes left thesplendid figure of Reuben and returned to the center of thecourtyard, where the two knights had already taken up theirpositions. Reuben, who had all but ignored the last fight, knowinghe would not have to fear either of the young knights, now watchedagain with interest. After the defeat of Sir Wilhelm, Sir Hermannwas the only other German knight left in the running. Reuben wasvery curious to see his technique.
Yet there wasn't much to see. The TeutonicKnight knocked his opponent out of the saddle in the first run,however, it was not easy to determine whether this was due to hisprowess or his opponent's incompetence. It was no very impressivethrow that catapulted the young knight into the dirt, so it mightbe the case that the Teutonic Knight was no very impressivefighter—yet it might equally be that he was, and he simply didn'twant to show his hand yet.
After all, that was what he, Reuben, haddone.
He would have to wait until the second roundto see who was really worth his metal. It wouldn't be long now.Only one more fight, and then new pairs would be jousting—all ofthem real warriors this time, not those wine-sodden fools who daredto call themselves knights.
The last fight signaled it: the fun was over.The scrawny Polish knight and his opponent had hardly taken uppositions, when the little knight drove his horse forwardviolently. The other fighter, who had begun at a leisurely canter,quickly tried to spur his horse on to a faster pace, but it wasalready too late. The lance of the little Pole slit expertlybetween the other knight's armor plates. There was a scream and aspray of red color flew towards the sky, only to come down on thebody of the young knight who lay on the ground, his limbs extended,motionless.
There were gasps from the crowd, and one ortwo ladies even fainted, or at least pretended to do so in order tocatch the attention of some man in their vicinity. Several people,including the pursuivant and the young knight's squire, who lookedrather green in the face, hurried into the courtyard and bent overthe fallen warrior.
Sir Albin, meanwhile, sat on his horse andlooked supremely unconcerned. He let his lance slide down in hisgrip until he held the iron tip, on which the blood of his opponentgleamed fresh. With a rag from one of his pockets he wiped off theblood, and then tugged hard at the tip to see whether it had at allsuffered by piercing a fellow man's flesh and needed to bereplaced. Only once he was satisfied that this was not the case,did he look over at his fallen opponent.
“If he dies,” he said to the young knight'ssquire, who was glaring up at him hatefully, “you'll remember tosend me his horse and armor, as is custom.”
“Do not fear, Sir Knight,” the young manhissed. “You will get what you deserve.”
Sir Albin either didn't hear thedouble-meaning, or didn't care.
“Good,” he said and turned his horsearound.
“He's alive!” The shout out of thepursuivant's mouth caused a sigh of relief to go up from theaudience. “His heart is still beating, but it is weak! Call aphysician!”
A few men rushed forward to help, andgroaning and moaning, the young knight was carried off thecourtyard. Not long after, they heard a scream from the distance.Reuben supposed that would be the physician at work. He wonderedwhat the young knight's chances of survival were. Some of thephysicians he had met had tried to cure colds by draining most ofthe blood out of you, and tried to stop internal bleeding by tyinga bag containing a dried toad around your neck. Reuben was noexpert in healing, but he rather doubted the efficacy of driedtoads.
Another scream came, which was abruptly cutshort.
And then the herald stepped into the middleof the courtyard, bowing to the audience and the Emperor.
“The winners of the first round aredetermined,” he proclaimed. “May the second round begin. Knights,come forward!”
Glory
Reuben drove his horse forward, careful to keep inthe middle of the group of knights who rode out onto the courtyard,the hoofs of their mounts making dull thumps on the packed earththat was meant to prevent the knights from smashing their heads inon the stone beneath. This round was where things would be gettinginteresting, and he had no intention of drawing too much of theattention of his competitors at this stage. Let them underestimatehim, for now.
