Page 105 of Pippa of Lauramore
The men circle each other, swords and shields at the ready. Kellerby strikes first, but Rigel easily blocks the attack with his shield. Kellerby swings once—twice more, but both times the dark lord blocks him. Kellerby loses his footing after the third swing, stumbling slightly. Rigelstrikes, pushing him back, making him block a feinted swing that leaves him open for the actual attack. Kellerby stumbles backward and falls to the ground. Rigel stands over him, sword carefully resting against his neck.
After Rigel’s win is announced, he holds his hand out to Kellerby. The man hesitates but then accepts it. Leonora raises her eyebrows at me. It’s the second time we’ve seen him act honorably after a win. Perhaps, in light of last night, I might have to admit he’s a decent human being.
Perhaps. I don’t want to jump to conclusions.
Rigel takes off his helmet, and as if he can sense my thoughts, he gives me a wry smile and exits the arena to await the next round. I watch several more competitors go against each other, and it doesn’t seem much different than watching my brothers and Archer practice with the knights. I’m bored.
Lionel wins his match, but I didn’t expect him to lose the first round.
Bran puts up a good fight against Peter of Coppel, but in the end, he loses his footing and goes to the ground. Peter moves on, and Bran does not.
Irving and his uncle sit on the other side of Marigold, and Anna has squeezed in between Marigold and me. Normally she sits under the shade canopy with Mother, and I am surprised to see her in the sunshine. She must think I’m terrible company for our guests because she’s taken to asking Marigold questions about Primewood between matches. I listen idly, waiting for Archer’s turn, which is next.
Yesterday’s storm has moved out. The sun is warmtoday, but the moisture in the air has made the afternoon sticky. My shoulder itches under the bandage, and though Yuven has assured me the unpleasant sensation means the wound is healing, it’s driving me mad.
“Stop fidgeting, child,” Anna hisses quietly, leaning over.
I’m about to answer, but Archer strides into the arena. Even with the chain mail and helmet, I can tell it’s him. It’s not just his slightly shorter build, or his lean, muscular frame—his gait is different, as is the way he carries himself. He’s confident where Galinor sometimes hesitates.
This match will be difficult to sway the crowd to his side. He’s against our own Lord Gregor. Though there is no chance Gregor can win the tournament at this point, the audience still hopes to see their man do well.
Archer has one distinct advantage over Gregor—he’s practiced with him before, and he knows the way the man moves. Lord Gregor, if he knew it was Archer in the armor, would have that advantage as well, but since he doesn’t know who he’s fighting, he does not.
If Archer feels bad about this advantage, it doesn’t show. He strikes first, taking Gregor by surprise. Lord Gregor blocks the move and pushes him back. They circle each other, and Gregor strikes, a move Archer easily blocks with his shield.
I have no doubt who will win, but I can’t help but be nervous as I wait. I chew on my lip, willing the match to end quickly.
Seeing an opening, Archer disarms Gregor, and the lord’s sword falls out of reach. He blocks the attacks withhis shield while trying to reach his sword, but Archer unbalances him, and he falls. I breathe out a relieved breath. One fight closer to the win.
“Where are you going?” Anna asks when I stand.
“I need to stretch my legs.”
She frowns, but she doesn’t try to stop me.
I walk through the crowds, avoiding familiar faces who might wish to chat, and push through Galinor’s tent. Alexander is at the entry, but he moves to let me in.
Archer has taken his helmet off, and he wipes sweat from his brow with a rag. He looks as tired as I feel. I want to go to him, but I can’t—not with Alexander and Galinor here.
“How are you feeling?” I ask Galinor. Like Archer, he’s in chain mail, and I’m sure it’s just in case someone unexpected drops by the tent.
Galinor winces, but then he smiles. “Better. I would fight, but Yuven forbids me.”
“He’s worried the bleeding will begin again,” Alexander explains, and I cringe, remembering yesterday with more detail than I would like.
I speak with them for a few more minutes, and then I know I must leave. There’s more chance Archer will be discovered if I linger. When I arrive back in my seat, I’m relieved to learn that five more have been eliminated. Rigel and Lionel have both fought and won again.
Irving’s uncle has left. It seems Anna has wandered away as well, and Leonora has moved to sit under the sun canopy with my parents. Irving scoots over when I come closer, making room for me between him and Marigold. He grimaces at the movement, though the look onlycrosses his face for a moment. He’s wearing his ridiculous hat again, just like he did on the day of the archery tournament.
“You look like a pirate.” I flick the feather.
He grins, an ornery look on his handsome face. “We could be pirates together. There’s still time to run away with me.”
I laugh. “I don’t think you’re going to be running anywhere anytime soon.”
“You wound me.” He winks at me.
“Besides,” I say, motioning to his hat. “Wherever would you find another feather that large for my hat? What kind of bird did you rob that from anyway?”
