The Robber Knight's Love (The Robber Knight Saga #2)(183)

“Um…” Reuben cleared his throat. “Well, he probably had one with him. Maybe he stole it from a dish washer he robbed earlier that day.”

“I see. This is fascinating! Do go on, Sir Reuben.”

“Well, in spite of his dastardly tricks, I finally managed to drive him back against a tree.”

“And then?”

“Well, I slammed him with the flat of my blade so hard he stumbled back against the tree! And then, I grabbed it and pulled—and it was ripped clear out of the ground, and I threw it on top of the dastardly villain who had dared to disturb the peace of the Empire!”

“Merciful Lord! What strength! What valor! Oh, Sir Reuben…”

“And that,” he ended, performing the small version of a courtly bow, “was how I overcame the fearsome robber knight Sir Franco d’Onofrio.”

Lady Salvatrice small hands clapped together in delight. She gazed adoringly up at him from under thick, black eyelashes. “Oh, Sir Reuben! You are so brave!”

Smiling, Reuben rose to his feet and, taking one of the lady’s hands in his, pressed a light kiss on its back. “If you wish to see how brave I am, you need only come watch me joust in an hour, outside in the courtyard.”

“Oh, I shall! I will watch and pray that you return to me safely.”

Reuben strode away, bursting with confidence. Behind the next corner, Lord d’Altavilla, who had listened to the entire conversation, only just managing not to be sick, squeezed his hands into tight fists.

“Oh yes, pray,” he whispered. “Pray all you can! He’s going to need it!”

~~*~~*

The sun did not beat down on them bright and hot as it had yesterday. There were not so many jousts left to fight today as there had been yesterday, and so the herald had scheduled the final duels of the jousting for early evening. The sun was already beginning to sink, and the fiery light of the red eye in the sky threw a hellish mantle over the world.

Ha! I’m writing too much bad poetry! Shaking his head, Reuben smiled to himself. There’s nothing hellish about today. This light is God’s light, and in its shine, I shall triumph.

“Sir Reuben against Sir Hildebrandt!”

The call of the herald pulled Reuben from his thoughts. This wasn’t the time to daydream! It was time to fight!

He threw a glance at the knight at the other end of the lists, whose gray charger, even bigger than Ajax, was pawing the ground impatiently. Sir Hildebrandt, eh?

I wonder if he’s as good a fighter as the great Hildebrandt from legend and song.

Quite probable, if the thick muscles under the metal of his armor were anything to judge by. This really wasn’t the time to daydream. The easy opponents were long out of the running. Now, the fight would be with no holds barred. If he wanted to win, he’d have to think fast and hit hard.

The herald raised his arm—and let it fall.

“Laissiez-les aller!”

Reuben spurred Ajax on, holding his lance steady. On the other end of the field, with almost no hesitation, Sir Hildebrandt did the same. Damn! He was a dangerous opponent—both strong and fast. Reuben knew he wouldn’t simply be able to duck out of the way with this one. No fancy tricks, no sure way to a win. He would just have to ride and ram hard!

His gaze instinctively flicked up to Salvatrice up in the Emperor’s box.

Not that kind of riding, you asshead! Get your head back where it needs to be!

Twenty feet before collision.

Hm…his shield is shifted a bit too far to the right…

Ten feet.

Damn! He’s noticed!

Five feet.

Now!

Reuben’s lance came down in an arc, and his enemy’s did the same. There was a crash, a hit that rocked Reuben’s world, and then he was past, still on his horse, and Sir Hildebranndt was, too, his lance shattered. Glancing down, Reuben saw that his own lance hadn’t escaped unscathed either. It had a long crack along the side.

“Get me another one!” Pulling his mount around, he tossed the lance to his squire, who waited besides a stack of weapons and shields. This time, he had not come without replacements and someone to handle them. It hadn’t been difficult to find someone. Half the boys in the city had wanted to be the squires of the famous Sir Reuben.

“Here you go, Sir.” Quickly, the squire handed him a lance. “Good luck, Sir.”

“Thanks, but I prefer a good weapon in my hands!”

Pressing his heels into Ajax’s sides, Reuben surged forward, back into the fray. Sir Hildebrandt was already rushing towards him, lance slowly lowering. Was he getting tired? No, Reuben realized as he saw the knight’s arm quiver. He must have done something to his arm when he hit me! Strained a muscle, maybe?

Whatever it was, that was the weak point Reuben needed to go for.

Getting a good grip on his shield, he prepared for the impact. He didn’t pay very much attention to where his own lance was going—not on this run. Instead, when the two of them collided, he rammed his shield against his enemy’s lance point as hard as he could. Predictably, the impact jarred his teeth—but it also ripped the lance clean out of Sir Hildebrandt’s grip, making him cry out in pain.

There we go! That’s what I’m talking about!

Reuben’s lance had sustained no damage whatsoever this time. Whirling around at the end of the lists, he didn’t hesitate an instant before charging back up towards Sir Hildebrandt. The injured knight had been busy grabbing a new lance and had just managed to turn his horse around. When Reuben and he collided, Reuben had twice as much momentum, and the force of his lance hurled Sir Hildebrandt right out of the saddle.