“My father and I will stay here and wait for Bastien. You two go down to the field. Check on the boys and the horses. We’ll join you later.” Gaultier returned his sword to the scabbard strapped at his hip as his companions did the same.
Lancelot ducked his chin and descended the spiral steps with Gaspard at his side.
“We’re lucky we found Tréguier’s men before they got Bastien. They would have beaten him, perhaps captured him—so he couldn’t compete tomorrow. Whatever their intent, it was evil.” Esclados sheathed his sword and leaned against the wall with a heavy sigh. Pensive, his brow furrowed, he announced, “We’ll take turns standing guard throughout the night. And tomorrow as well. We’ll take no chances with Ugolin le Clou or his bloody Black Knight.”
Gaultier met his father’s fierce gaze and nodded gravely. He would protect his brother as valiantly as he defended his king.
A while later, Bastien slid quietly from Gabrielle’s room, startled to find his older brother and father waiting outside the oak door. “Why are you here?” he asked cautiously, raising an inquisitive brow.
“Three of Tréguier’s men were waiting to ambush you when you came out the door. Good thing we found them first.” Esclados clasped his son’s shoulder. “C’mon, let’s go back to the tents.”
In the foyer on the ground floor, Gaultier assigned four knights to go upstairs and guard Gabrielle’s door. Satisfied that the castle was secure, he accompanied his father and brother and returned to the lists.
In the morning, the Yuletide Joust would begin.
Chapter 14
The Yuletide Joust
Sea gulls squawked in the early morning sky, the aroma of sizzling meats wafting in the cold, salty air as Max, Quentin, and Gaston stuffed the final bites of sausage into their hungry mouths.
“Sir Bastien, may I bring Quentin and Gaston with me to tend to the horses in the royal stables? With their help, I’ll finish my chores and be back sooner. You’ll be here with Drach, so is it alright if they come with me?” Max brushed the crumbs from his lap as he stood, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his woolen tunic.
Bastien sat upon a large stone near his tent, sharpening his sword to ease the restless tension in his adrenaline-drenched limbs. He paused and glanced up at his squire. “That’s fine, Max. Be thorough, but be quick. I’ll need you back here to feed and groom Drach. And prepare him for the first run.”
With an exuberant grin, Max nodded and replied, “Thank you, my lord. We’ll be back soon.” Signaling his two young companions to join him, he ran off toward the castle stables to tend to King Guillemin’s royal mounts.
Grooms scurried about with feed buckets for the horses as activity increased among the tents lining the tournament field. Squires fastened and adjusted gleaming armor for the lords they served, while others dressed horses in caparisons bearing the heraldry of their riders. Delicious scents emanated from the red silk pavilions where vendors prepared foods for the spectators to purchase before the joust began.
Gaultier emerged from the tent, stretching his arms overhead. A squire served him a platter of sausage, bread, and honey, with a hearty mug of ale. He sat down near Bastien to break his fast. “Too nervous to eat?” he asked, taking an enormous bite and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“My stomach’s in knots. I can’t.” Bastien spotted his father and Lancelot breaking their fast near the cooks’ campfire. When they finished, the two men headed toward the end of the tournament field to the starting position where they would inspect all lances prior to each run. Bastien took a deep breath and exhaled forcefully, shaking his arms to relax his limbs and calm his ragged nerves.
Gaultier rose and rolled his neck, glancing at the cluster of tents where Ugolin le Clou and the Black Knight were preparing for the first tilt of the joust. “Good luck today, brother. May the Goddess grant you victory as you win Gabrielle’s hand.” With a hearty slap on the shoulder, Gaultier returned to the tent where his squire awaited to help him don the gleaming, polished armor that he would wear in the grandstand while defending the king.
Lively music floated on the crisp winter wind as spectators began filling the stands. At the sight of Gabrielle’s flowing red tresses, Bastien’s heart stood still. Her glorious smile seared his soul.
Today, he would wear her colors.
And, by the Goddess, win her hand.
While he stood mesmerized by the sight of his flame haired, fire hearted Valkyrie, Max, Quentin, and Gaston came sprinting across the castle grounds.
“Sir Bastien,” Max gasped, bent over his knees, struggling for breath. “Enemy soldiers… on horseback… behind the castle. We saw them just now.”
With a jerk of his head, Bastien summoned Gaultier to his side.
The First Knight of Beaufort, clad in full plate armor, sheathed his sword, and strode briskly toward his younger brother. “A problem?” he asked, taking in the boys’ harried faces and heaving breaths.
“Mounted enemy knights. Lined up behind the castle.” Bastien returned his attention to Max. “How many?”
“At least three dozen, my lord. Behind the castle. On the bailey. Inside the curtain wall.” Max looked up at Gaultier, staunch loyalty blazing in his fierce, resolute gaze. “We saw them just now. Near the royal stables.”
“You did well to alert us.” Bastien rested his hand on Max’s lanky shoulder. “I need you to prepare Drach now for the first run. Fill his feed bucket, give him fresh water. Put on his caparison. It’s almost time for the joust to begin.”
“Right away, my lord. C’mon boys. Let’s take care of Drach.” Max led Quentin and Gaston toward the tent where the black stallion nickered in greeting.
His brow furrowed in concentration, Gaultier stared pensively at the castle. Strategizing. “I’ll send fifty additional archers through the tunnel.” He turned to Bastien, his brother’s warrior eyes ablaze. “Lancelot already has his men in position near the lake, and two dozen knights from Landuc are stationed near the open moor where you used to train with Gabrielle.” He glanced up into the royal grandstand where the Prince and Princess of Armorique were taking their seats beside King Guillemin and Gabrielle. “Kaherdin has two dozen knights here on the tournament field, and we have four dozen of our own. If Ugolin tries to attack, we’ll take him by surprise.”
