Chapter Two
Every bone in his body ached. He felt as if there was no part of him not bruised and battered. Sir Terric Aubrey felt older than his six and twenty years. What else did he expect with the type of life he had chosen? As a landless knight who made his living following and competing in the tournament circuit, he had picked a hard road. At times, a painful one.
Terric released a groan as his squire, Edwin, rubbed his bruised left shoulder. As Edwin attacked the area in earnest, Terric groaned in protest. “Easy, boy. Are you trying to maim me?”
The squire relented and stepped away. They were in Terric’s pavilion, the only home both had known for the last three years, the length of time Terric had been on the road.
“You need to get off the circuit for a while before you kill yourself. Today was too close for my liking.”
Edwin was correct. Today had been a very close call. During his last run in the list, his competitor’s lance hit him in the helm, missing blinding him by a scant half-inch. The mark of the blow was still on his helm, making it easy to see how close it had come.
Standing, Terric stretched his six foot four inch frame. He rolled his left shoulder a few times, then heard it pop as it settled into place. A dislocated shoulder was quite common on the circuit. He had firsthand experience on how painful one could be. As a result, his shoulder popped and cracked after each tournament.
“Do not remind me how close I came to ending my career as a tournament knight. Luck was on my side today.”
Edwin scoffed. “I should say it was more your great skill than luck.”
Terric smiled. “Well, thank you, squire. I gladly accept your compliment.”
A wet cloth hit Terric squarely in the face. Edwin laughed. “There will be no more compliments from me. I would not want you to get a big head. We would never be able to get your helm on.”
Wisely, Edwin ducked out of the pavilion after issuing those words, leaving Terric alone. He shook his head in amusement with a chuckle. Edwin was always good for such comments.
Their relationship was not solely based on that of a knight and his squire. Edwin was his companion as well. At aged eight and ten, Edwin had seen, and done, more than he should have at his young age. Being a child alone on London’s streets had a tendency to do that. To this day, Edwin still claimed a guardian angel had been watching over him when he had encountered Terric.
It could have been an angel who led Terric to him, or he had just been in the right place at the right time. No matter how he had happened to stumble across the badly beaten ten-and-two-year-old Edwin, he was thankful he had been the one to be there when the boy had needed help.
After Edwin had been dumped into an alleyway behind the alehouse Terric was about to enter, the commotion had drawn his attention. If he hadn’t been found, Edwin would have surely died in the filth. He still had no memory of who had beaten him or why.
Terric rubbed the wet cloth across his chest. He had to make himself presentable for the feasting, which would begin shortly. It could be a hard, lonely life, but the meals sometimes helped to make up for a few shortcomings. In particular, the ladies who would be in attendance. A little flirtation with the ones who tried to gain his attention was one of his favorite ways to unwind after a battering in the list. He was not ugly, far from it. Knowing what his face did to the ladies, he used it to his advantage.
His eyes were an unusual violet color. Hair the color of wheat worn shoulder-length, a strong chin, straight nose, and sculpted lips were what drew women to him. Edwin took full advantage of Terric’s luck with the fairer sex. He had no problem finding a woman for himself amongst his master’s admirers. The boy was no slouch himself in the looks department with his shaggy dark blond hair and green eyes.
Though women flocked to Terric, he did not take up what they offered most times. He did not want or need a woman to be a part of his life. Not while he was in the circuit. Spending just one night with one was not something he made a habit of doing. Flirting was more his forte.
Once dressed in a tight-fitting, mid-thigh, dark blue tunic and black hose, he pulled on his boots and exited his pavilion. The feast was being held at the castle. To be perfectly honest, Terric could not remember the name of the castle or the lord’s name, for that matter, only that they were in Devon. After attending so many tournaments, they tended to blur one into another, especially smaller ones like this. Though it was small, he had managed to take enough ransoms to make it profitable. That was all that really mattered at the end of the day.
* * * *
“Come on, girl, give me your hand. Let’s give it another go.”
Jacqueline reached up and clasped Sir Guy by the hand, allowing him to pull her up onto her feet. Landing flat on her back and not being able to get up she found to be a humiliating experience. Being encased in full armor, helm and all, she was too weighted down to gain her feet on her own.
The quintain proved harder than it looked. After a week’s worth of training behind her, Jacqueline was still being knocked off her steed, but she refused to give up. She would not allow a damn sandbag to get the better of her.
“Up you go.” Sir Guy cupped his hand for Jacqueline to step into so he could help her back into the saddle. “Remember to get your lance aimed for the center of the quintain. Any deviation from that point and the sandbag will get you.”
“Thanks for the reminder, but I have found that out myself already, a number of times.” Jacqueline accepted her lance once more, set it in place, then prepared to run at the quintain one last time before ending the training session.
She took a couple of deep breaths to help clear her mind, then focused all her attention on the quintain. Satisfied with her grip on the lance, she shoved her heels into her horse’s sides and barreled toward her target.
As her lance hit the quintain, Jacqueline braced for the inevitable feel of the sandbag whacking her from behind. It never came. She looked over her shoulder and found herself now past it, and miraculously, she was still in her saddle. With a loud whoop, she turned her steed around and headed to where Sir Guy watched.
She yanked off her helm and waited for him to speak. She dismounted and stood before him. “Well, are you at least going to say something?”
To her complete surprise, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her in a bear hug. Sir Guy lifted her off her feet. Once he set her down, there was a large grin upon his face.
“Well done, my girl, well done. I knew you had it in you.”
Jacqueline basked in the older man’s approval and quickly kissed his cheek. “I had a good teacher, don’t you know.”
Feeling light of heart, more than she had for the last few days, she spun on her heels and walked in the direction of the hall. Now that she had managed to best the quintain her mother could finally stop worrying about her so much.