Chương 123: The Third Course

I sprinted to the lists, pushing past fleeing, panicking onlookers. At the moment, the nobles in their viewing booths stood up, looking at the tournament stables, and the audience who could fit on the risers hadn't abandoned them yet. I pushed to the front of the crowd, then jumped over the outer fence and landed on the main jousting fields. A pair of Path-walkers ran past me. They wore blue gambesons and carried staves.

One used an Art like Sir Aldhelm had, creating a rainstorm over the burning stables, and another drew water up from the ground, condensed it into streams, then blasted the fires with them. Of course there were dedicated fire crew Path-walkers. They'd put out the worst of it. But where was Lord Ceonwin? First, I glanced at the scoreboard. I was later to arrive than I had been last week. Using the reading slate had eaten into my time, and I had missed the first two courses of the joust.

Judging by the point flags, Lord Ceonwin had done very well. He was up three flags. At the moment, he was almost guaranteed a victory. He just needed to avoid a nasty headshot or getting unhorsed. But where was he? I rushed onto the field, then sprinted over to the Warlord's messenger, who watched the fire with a mortified expression. Looking up at the man, I yelled, "Where's Lord Ceonwin?"

"His opponent called a recess between the second and third courses!" the messenger replied.

"Lord Ceonwin returned to the stables to switch to a less tired horse."

"He's in there?" I exclaimed.

"Yes, sergeant."

"Shit!" I sprinted across the tournament field until I reached the stable. The gate was unlocked, and I pushed it open, running through the inner hallway. A central walkway passed between stalls for the contestant thegns' horses. They rose up on their hind legs and kicked at their pens' gates, but with the sorcerers pouring water on the fire, they weren't in any immediate danger. Smoke clouded the air, and every breath was full of ashy grit. I tried not to breathe.

I could hold my breath far longer than an average human now, given my enhanced Vitality. When I reached the end of the stable, where Ceonwin kept his horses, I found the origin point of the explosion. The entire back corner was gone, and the roof collapsed, charred beams falling inward. Two of Lord Ceonwin's horses were dead. One's body laid in the corner, charred, and another was disfigured beyond recognition by the explosion.

Keeping my gaze high and plugging my nose to repel the stench, I rushed through the debris.

"Lord Ceonwin!" I shouted.

"Over here!" Willaf yelled back. His two squires stood outside the hole in the wall, dragging the Ealdorman's armoured body away from the fire, out the back of the stable. His third horse trotted outside, pawing at the ground as smoke wafted out the hole in the wall. I rushed to meet them.

"What happened?"

"I didn't see it!" Foal yelled.

"Fire, then something exploded! Explosions like that are orc business!"

"Let's not worry about who's responsible just yet!" I replied, rushing over.

"Is he alive?"

"He'll live. But he needs a healing potion," Willaf said. I chewed my lip. It was surely an assassination attempt.

"Foal, go find my squad. They'll be in the crowd by now. You know what they look like?"

"You're with the legless druid girl, right?" he asked.

"Yeah! Go! Get them over here. Sage can help." I turned to Willaf, then glanced down at Lord Ceonwin.

"Is he conscious?"

"Barely. He's incoherent, though, and he won't be able to joust his last two courses even if we tie him to the saddle." I glanced back, peering through the hole in the back of the stable wall, then back through the cracks in the boards at the crowd. Most of the audience was still there, still waiting patiently, and having calmed slightly now that the fire was quelling. The Warlord's messenger circled around the jousting grounds, two of his guards following him. He approached us and said, "Can Lord Ceonwin ride?"

I glanced at Ceonwin, then back at the messenger.

"What happens if he doesn't ride his last two courses?"

"He forfeits. His opponent will advance through the tournament." And Lord Ceonwin would lose his domain.

"And there are no exceptions…given extenuating circumstances?" I motioned at the charred wall of the stable.

"Not under any circumstance. There would be too much incentive to fake it and delay the tournament."

"He'll be there," I promised.

"Go. Keep the crowd in check. Tell them Lord Ceonwin will be there to ride." The messenger nodded, narrowing his eyes skeptically. But he and his guards marched away. This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. At the same time, Foal rounded the corner, Sage, Anchor, and Brawl behind them. I explained what had happened, then asked, "Can you heal him in time to joust?"

"I can heal him, and he'll live," Sage said.

"But it will take time. I could have him up if we had more time, but we don't. Each competitor can only request one recess in the tournament." I leaned over Ceonwin, then glanced at Sage, then back at the ealdorman.

"You're not doing what I think you're doing, are you?" Willaf whispered. I sighed. It was a terrible idea. But if I let Lord Ceonwin fall out of the tournament right now, we were done for.

"Give me his armour," I said.

"I'll ride in his place. Just this once, we'll make it work." Foal tried, "Levi—""We have to." I insisted. Willaf scowled, but neither of the scouts replied. I asked Sage, "Will they sense that I'm not a Gold?"

"They might," Sage said.

"If they're purposely trying to sense the contestants, that is. But with all the Path-walkers present, it will muddle their perception." I nodded.

"Then I'm riding in his place. I know it's a risk, but we all lose if we do nothing, and among us, I'm the only one with remotely any experience. It's only one course."

"You think you can do this?" Anchor asked.

"No. I don't know. But I have to try. Come on, help me get his armour off." Working with the squires, we stripped off his chainmail and scale mail. I donned both hauberks, then pulled up a mouth covering of chainmail. Lastly, I pulled his helmet on, its eye guards covering the rest of my face. I swung up onto his last horse, patted its neck, then whispered, "I'm sorry I'm not your usual rider, but he'll be fine." The horse neighed in response, and at first, he resisted me—slightly.

I shook my head, then muttered, "Just get me through this. Then I'll go back to riding Burr." Louder, I told the others, "Foal, Willaf, I need you to pretend nothing has happened. Come with me and give me the lance, like you normally would. Sage, make sure he stays alive and recovers in time to run his last course. Anchor, Brawl, you make sure no one sees Lord Ceonwin. I'll request a recess right after this and come right back."

We trotted around the side of the jousting grounds, then jumped over the fence and approached our starting line. Willaf and Foal, still shaking, handed me a lance. I tightened my grip on it, tested it, then pointed it down across the lists.

"Lord Ceonwin is unhurt!" the messenger called, then motioned to me. Most of the audience cheered, though I couldn't tell if it was because they actually like Lord Ceonwin or if they just wanted to make sure the joust continued. As for the nobles, though… Lord Hinlaw, and his son Hinfic, both sat in their booths, staring at me. Hinlaw shook his head and whispered something to the servant beside him, who replied hurriedly. I didn't catch what they were saying—they were too far away—but it couldn't be good.

I couldn't focus on them, though. I'd done everything in my power to hide who I was, and now. The plan will work, I told myself. You've got this. The messenger raised his starting flag, and kept my feet in my stirrups, toes clenched. I clenched my teeth and kept my tongue inside them so I didn't bite it off, preparing to take a heavy hit. The flag dropped. I snapped the horse's reins, pointing my lance, and we shot forward, galloping toward our opponent.

I held Ceonwin's shield up, protecting myself, but not focusing on it. I could take a hit. It was far more important to stay on the horse and make it look like Lord Ceonwin was here, riding out to strike his foe. If I made him look bad or incompetent, everyone would be suspicious. I raised my lance, holding it tight, aiming it. Just hit your opponent's shield, I told myself. Just hit the shield. I didn't even know the opposing thegn's name.

My vision narrowed, and all I could see was the magenta shield with a black wolf-head sigil. My lance struck. Wood popped, lightning coursed into my arm. The lance's tip shattered, and the rest of it splintered. Foot-long splinters flew everywhere. Some pelted my helmet like hail, and others bounced off my scale mail. But my opponent struck as well. A lance smashed into my shoulder, rocking me backward. It was far harder than Ceonwin had ever hit me.

If I remembered how it felt to be hit by a truck (I didn't) it probably would've felt the same. I rocked backward. My body went numb, and the jolt travelled all the way down my legs, before flowing into the saddle and fading away. I leaned forward again, resisting the urge to brush my armour, or to check if I'd been injured. Lord Ceonwin wouldn't have done that, so neither could I. As I rode to the end of the lane, the messenger placed a flag for both my opponent and I.

The situation was basically the same as it was before. We'd averted disaster. I rode the horse to the end of the lane, gasping to catch my breath. I almost pulled off my helmet, but I didn't. When Willaf and Foal rushed over to grab my lance, I whispered, "Did anyone notice?"

"Looks like you're in the clear," Willaf said.

"How about Ceonwin?"

"Sage dealt with most of the burns and the broken bones. He's not in perfect condition, but he can ride."

"Now, he just needs to stay on his horse, and we'll be set." I rode the horse back to the end of the lane, dismounted, and called for a second recess. We trotted back through the smouldering, damaged remains of the stables, then traded the armour back to Lord Ceonwin. He put it on as quickly as he could, then patted my shoulder.

"How was it?"

"Painful, sir."

"Well, most things are." He grimaced, cinching his belt over his half-healed wounds, then jumped onto his horse's back.

"We're ready." Willaf and Foal led the horse back, but I stayed in the shadows of the stable. If I showed up again after mysteriously being missing for the third course, that would be far too suspicious. Instead, I hung back and watched the next round. It was over in a flash. Lord Ceonwin charged, and again, both riders broke a single lance on each other's bodies. Not enough to meaningfully change the outcome. I let out the breath caught in my throat, then turned back to my squad and whispered, "Guys.

If I can do it once, I can do it again." They stared at me skeptically.

"Would it help if I said I have an idea for getting some thegnage papers made?"