“Please.” The silent feeling of desperation gnawed in his stomach.
Anders sniffed. “I’m sorry, lad,” he repeated. “I’m not sure there’ll be time. I have another suit of armor I’m working on for a knight.”
“I’ll help you with it.”
“Yes, you will. I was expecting that.” He paused, his gaze searching Ransom’s face, then said, “If we both work together, I’ll get it done faster, which means I’d have time to work on yours. There may . . . be enough time to finish it before the next tournament.” A smile brightened his face. “You keep my forge glowing hot, I can work much faster. It’s difficult work. It’s more fun to dent armor than fix it.”
The relief in Ransom’s heart was fierce. “I’ll do it.”
“Hold on, lad. Let me finish setting the terms. You work for me half the time. You train the other half. No sense making you armor you’ll ruin after your first bout. In return, you give me half your winnings. Every time. No exceptions. That means you’ll be paying me twice.”
“Done,” Ransom said with a grin.
“You’re not good at business, lad. I’m going to have to knock some sense into you. How about we limit the winnings to your first year?”
Ransom saw his mistake. “I think that’s fair.”
“It’s not, but you’ll learn the value of your coins soon enough. Everything costs something in this life, boy. But not everything is worth the cost. You need a place to sleep? You keeping that nag?”
“Yes and no,” Ransom answered.
“Good. Get rid of the nag. You can sleep on the floor over there. Now go pump those bellows for me. Let’s see how long you last!”
It has been almost two years since I last wrote. It doesn’t feel like it, until I consider all that’s happened. Da is more respected now in Legault. He travels to Atha Kleah to render justice, and his decisions are upheld. It wasn’t long ago they’d argue every point, just to spite him, but he’s a fair leader, and over time, they’ve realized he doesn’t just rule in favor of the lords of Ceredigion.
I’ve relished riding through our lands, getting to know the villagers and their needs. There are barrow mounds and sacred sites throughout Legault. The history is rich with so many legends of the Aos Sí and the magical artifacts they made. I met an aging woman in the village of Knockcroggery who said she’d seen, in her youth, a knight with a scabbard that had the raven sigil on it. The knight could not be killed in combat because of it. I have spent many a moonlit night waiting at a pond to see if the Aos Sí would emerge and dance at midnight. Sadly, I’ve not seen any. But I long to.
Da thinks I should choose a husband soon, which is probably why I’m writing this from the palace of Ploemeur in Brythonica presently. We have a writ of safe conduct from the duchess for our journey to Pree to attend a tournament at a field called Chessy. Every kingdom is sending their best knights to compete. There will be much clashing of swords, shattering of lances, and likely dozens of bearded men itching to marry an heiress. I’ve never been to Pree before, so I’m excited to see the pinnacle of refinement, grace, and skill at arms. Da won’t be fighting, but we’ve enough knights in our company who will take to the fields. Everyone says the strongest knights are from Occitania. Yet I wonder who else may be there?
—Claire de Murrow
Ploemeur, Duchy of Brythonica
CHAPTER TEN
Warring Legends
Ransom had never seen so many kingdoms represented on a single field before. The smart ones had begun arriving a month before the tournament, and the crowds grew worse each day. Disputes arose between rival factions, but King Lewis had provided enough guards, led by the Black Prince, his son, to quell open conflict. Prince Estian was called the Black Prince because he wore a black tabard with a silver fleur-de-lis badge, and all his knights and men-at-arms wore the same. They were quick to root out troublemakers and send them away with a writ of safe conduct lasting only one day. Ransom had seen several knights scurry away after receiving such a reprimand.
With the growing throngs, merchants from Pree were making a fortune selling food, pavilions, horses, weapons, and little remembrances they called souvenirs. After having spent two years in Chessy, Ransom was fluent in Occitanian and passed as a local, which meant he was able to purchase things at lower prices. He was eager for the tournament. Although he’d fought in many during his time in Chessy, this would be the first to bring in many of the noble houses of Ceredigion. He kept an eye out for standards he recognized, hoping to see Lord Kinghorn again, although his goal was to prove himself enough to be offered a position with one of the dukes of the realm—other than Duke Wigant, of course. His resentment against James had festered since their last encounter. But the time had come to return home. While he still didn’t like Devon Argentine, he respected the stability he’d brought to the realm in only a few years. Judging by the stories he’d heard, the Argentine king was better at putting a stop to the internal squabbling than Gervase had ever been, and there was no denying he was also more successful at keeping enemies at bay.