The Knight of Silk and Steel (4 page)
“The what?”
“The money that you get to pay the grooms … the money that you pay yourself, you black-hearted butler. So I lose nothing, you lose all!”
Charles went wobbly at the knees, then pulled himself up straight. “My dear, good Lord, of course you’ll win! You always did … when you were thin and fit and strong. I’ll saddle your horse then come and help you climb aboard. The crane is ready in the castle yard!”
Chapter Five
Chargers and Cheers
Dawn broke over the village tavern and everyone was wide awake. The tavern groom was brushing Ulrich’s fine, grey horse until it glowed bright in the sun.
Leonard the landlord fed the young knight fresh-baked bread and honeyed ham, then Ulrich washed in pure, clear water from the stream.
In the stable, young Meg took the saddlebags and laid out all the armour. “I can be your squire,” she told the knight. “Fasten up your armour, lead your horse and pick you up when you’re knocked down!”
Ulrich nodded. “So you shall be. Venus would be pleased to see a girl who helps us fight her battle! Dust my armour while I put a stitch in this small tear I ripped in my dress!”
Meg was singing as she dusted. Ulrich was happy as he breathed in the morning’s good, crisp air. “This is what a knight errant lives for. Fighting for his lady fair.”
Ulrich pushed a wandering pig away then tucked his sewing kit into a saddlebag. With Meg’s help, he strapped himself into his armour and slipped the dress on top.
The whole village gathered round and made a line along the road.
Ulrich clanged and clattered as he walked up the path to the hill. A line of cheery village people followed, work forgotten.
Charles had placed a row of fences made from brushwood in a line across the field. Old Lord Seckau would ride down one side, Ulrich’s Venus down the other. When they neared, they’d lower their lances and each would try to smash the lance tip on his rival’s chest. If it was a strong, true hit then one knight could be smashed clean from his saddle.
Ulrich mounted on his charger, and young Meg passed up his helmet. Seckau waited at the far end and waved a cheery, metal glove.
Charles the butler held a white rag. “When I drop the flag, you ride. God bless you! God bless us all!”
Each knight lowered the eye guard on his helmet, each squire passed his lord a lance. Fifty village people held their breath and even birds fell silent in the sky.
Charles the butler dropped the flag.
Old Lord Seckau moved his heels and dug sharp spurs into his horse’s side. The horse went
snicker
, gave a snort and moved at a gentle trot. (Well, it was old and his master weighed him down like castle stone.)
Ulrich spurred his fine, grey charger. The beast rose up on its hind legs and pawed the air like a dancing bear.
Then it lowered its head and struck the ground with hooves of thunder.
Off it sped towards Lord Seckau, faster than a speeding hare. Ulrich raced a hundred paces while Lord Seckau plodded ten.
The village cheered him, grass and clods of earth and worms flew up as he charged on while Lord Seckau plodded forth.
Lord Seckau brought his heavy lance down and took aim at Ulrich.
They were fifty paces apart.
Ulrich lowered his lance and tried to take aim at Lord Seckau, but it’s hard to aim when you’re galloping fast.
Forty paces, and Lord Seckau plodded almost to a stop.
Thirty paces, Ulrich’s lance tip wobbled.
Twenty paces, Lord Seckau stopped and let his enemy race towards his waiting lance.
Ten paces, blond hair flew from underneath the helmet, green-gold silk dress billowed in the wind. Venus was a glorious sight riding for fair lady’s love.
Three paces, Lord Seckau’s lance tip crunched into the breastplate of fair Venus. Ulrich’s lance tip pointed to the noonday sun. He’d missed … with worse shame to come.
Old Lord Seckau sat there like a castle wall and did not move. As speeding Ulrich hurried past, the lance smashed him from his saddle. Ulrich tumbled backwards, skirt flying over his helmeted head.
Lord Seckau laughed.
Ulrich hit the green turf with a clatter that shook starlings from the trees a mile away.
Meg sobbed and ran across the grass towards the fallen man.
She pulled the helmet from his head and threw the wig aside.
“My lord,” she moaned. “He’s killed you dead!”
