Valten motioned to his squire. “Guard Sieger and don’t let anyone near him.”
“Yes, my lord,” the boy said.
Valten looked at Gisela. “Come.” He strode behind the horse’s stall, taking such long strides that Gisela had to hurry to keep up. He stopped in front of Ruexner’s tent. A boy was lounging outside on the grass near the front.
“That’s him,” she whispered. “That’s the person who put the water hemlock in Sieger’s food.”
“You’re sure?” The fierce look was back on his face, his jawline looking like it was carved from stone.
“I’m sure.”
Valten took a step toward the tent and stopped. He turned back to Gisela, and the look in his gray-green eyes gentled instantly. His jaw relaxed, and her breath hitched in her throat at the sudden transformation. “Go back to Sieger’s stall and wait for me there.”
She nodded. Be careful. She wanted to say the words but was sure a man like Valten wouldn’t appreciate, or heed, them. She made her way back. What would Valten do?
While Gisela waited, she rubbed Sieger’s side and talked with Valten’s squire. He was a polite boy from the north near the sea, the third son of a wealthy earl. She asked him about his winters there and if he wanted to be a knight. The boy was rather talkative and answered her questions well, until his eyes grew big as he seemed to be staring over her shoulder. Before Gisela could turn around, she felt a tug at her neck as someone jerked her scarf.
“Well, if it isn’t the pretty little peasant from the streets.”
Gisela turned and glared into the ugly sneer of Friedric Ruexner.
He brought the blue scarf up to his face and held it against his cheek, an unpleasant smile on his bearded face.
As the scarf slipped away from her neck, Gisela grabbed the end of it. “Give it to me.” She pulled as hard as she could but could not break his hold.
Ruexner yanked as well. Gisela lost her balance and stumbled into him. She immediately jumped back but kept hold of the fabric.
“You want me to wear your colors, don’t you?” He grinned down at her.
“Not if I live to be a hundred years old.”
Ruexner laughed raucously. “I might not want to wear it if you were a hundred years old.”
“Give her the scarf.” Valten’s voice came from behind Ruexner.
Ruexner visibly stiffened, but he let go of the scarf. Gisela snatched it up before it fell to the ground.
Ruexner spun around and made a wild swing at Valten’s head with his fist. Valten sidestepped the blow, then landed one of his own on Ruexner’s chin. Ruexner bent over, clutching his face.
Ruexner’s hand slipped into his boot while Valten was looking at Gisela.
“Valten!” Gisela cried.
At her warning he jumped back. Ruexner’s hand flew up, and something shot across the three feet between him and Valten. A dagger, which struck a glancing blow across Valten’s chest but couldn’t penetrate his shirt of mail. It missed his chin by only a couple of inches and fell harmlessly to the ground.
Valten leaped forward and knocked Ruexner to the ground, wrapping his hands around the man’s neck. Ruexner tried to push Valten’s hands away.
“I should kill you now,” Valten growled. “Swear you will never bother this maiden again.” A moment’s silence, then he yelled, “Swear it!”
Ruexner made a strangled sound as his face grew red.
Valten seemed to loosen his hold on the man’s throat a fraction.
“I swear!”
“And if you ever send your servants to harm my horse —”
Valten tightened his hold again, making Ruexner’s eyes bulge and his mouth open and close like a fish on dry land.
His knee pressing against Ruexner’s chest, Valten let go of his strangle hold on Ruexner’s neck and pushed himself to his feet in one swift movement.
Ruexner gasped and rolled onto his side, clutching at his neck as he coughed and panted.
Valten motioned to Gisela to come to him. She hurried forward, and he pushed her behind him as he continued to watch Ruexner warily, his hands by his sides but extended slightly, as though readying for another attack.
“You almost killed me,” Ruexner rasped, still clutching his throat.
“You tried to kill me with your dagger,” Valten said calmly. “I can get you disqualified from this tournament.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“Yes.”
Slowly, Ruexner pulled himself to his feet. Gisela watched over Valten’s shoulder as Ruexner glared dangerously at him. “I’ll see you in the lists.”
“Just remember. One word from me and you will be thrown in the dungeon for trying to poison my horse and then threatening my life.”
Ruexner’s face was unreadable. Then he sneered. “Are you afraid I will defeat you the way I did at Arcy? For this time, I will take that horse of yours instead of taking your coin.”
Valten didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he answered, “If I don’t report your evil deeds, it will be because I shall enjoy defeating you so much more.”