The Captive Maiden

As Valten waited for his next opponent, Gisela heard the two maidens seated just below her talking in low voices. The curly haired brunette said, “Whose scarf do you think Lord Hamlin is wearing? Is it anyone we know?”

 

 

“I’ve no notion who it could be,” the one with the horned headdress answered. She looked behind her friend and up at where Rainhilda was seated. “Sir Edgar’s daughter isn’t wearing blue.” They both began looking around, searching the section around the Queen of Beauty and Love’s throne. No doubt they were searching for someone dressed in the same sapphire shade.

 

Many girls around Gisela and Cristyne were talking intently with their heads together, and a few were staring wonderingly at her. Gisela’s face heated again. She faced forward, keeping her gaze on Valten. Though she couldn’t see any part of his face, not even his eyes because of his helmet, his head was turned toward her as he sat on his horse.

 

His final opponent came out, Sir John de Lacy from England. His armor was golden and etched with black designs. Sir John was renowned throughout the world as a great tournament champion. Even Gisela had heard of him. She clasped her hands in her lap, praying Valten would defeat him.

 

The Englishman’s black horse snorted and stamped his feet from his place at the other end of the lists. Valten and Sieger waited in perfect stillness until the marshal dropped his flag. Both horses charged forward, and both lances struck the shield of the other knight and shattered into pieces. The black and gold knight didn’t waver in the saddle, but seemed to withstand the blow as if it were nothing.

 

The knights’ squires brought them new blunt-tipped lances. Gisela clamped her hands over her mouth as she watched them ready themselves for their second encounter.

 

When the two destriers charged forward, both knights aimed their lances at the other’s helmet. They both hit their mark. Valten’s head was knocked sharply to the side by the English knight’s lance, and Valten’s lance knocked Sir John backward, almost unhorsing him, but he kept his seat.

 

The two knights went back to their places. The black and gold knight kept moving his head side to side, as if trying to shake something off. He called one of the marshals over, apparently to ask for some time. He spoke to his squire, who ran off and then came back with a new helmet. It took him several minutes to remove the earl’s helm and replace it with the new, identical one. Meanwhile, Valten and Sieger stood still and waited.

 

Gisela’s fingers began to go numb from being clasped too tightly. She let go and pressed them hard against her lips as the marshal raised his flag. Squinting so she couldn’t see the marshal, she focused instead on Valten, praying fervently that he would emerge unscathed from the final encounter.

 

He’d already faced so many knights. How could he win against them all? He was only human. Valten was surely tired by this time from the many jousts he’d fought, while this knight had only faced one other opponent all day.

 

They all wanted to face Valten, looking to distinguish themselves by defeating the mighty Earl of Hamlin, the knight who had won more tournaments than any other.

 

Finally, Valten and his horse—as if they were one being instead of two—leaped forward across the tournament field toward their opponent. Gisela forced herself to watch as they once again aimed their lances at the other’s helmet.

 

The impact was ferocious. But Valten kept both his helmet and his saddle, and splintered his lance on Sir John’s helm. But that knight did not fare so well. He ended up on the ground, and he lay perfectly still.

 

The crowd cheered. Valten’s victory was indisputable, as the black and gold knight’s attendants had to come and assist him off the field. Valten was undeniably the winner of the tournament and would be awarded the prize, as well as the honor of choosing the Queen of Beauty and Love, who would subsequently reign over tonight’s banquet and tomorrow’s tournament activities.

 

The thought of watching Valten fighting hand to hand the next day with these other knights made her stomach churn. But this was what men did; they enjoyed the sport of pounding each other. And as long as they used blunted weapons and full body armor, it was less likely they would kill each other. Fighting a war would have been much more dangerous.

 

There was a flourish of trumpets as the day’s tournament activities came to an end. Many of the other knights came back out on the field in full armor to wave their banners and be recognized. But Friedric Ruexner was conspicuously absent.

 

After the parade of knights, Duke Wilhelm called for his son to come forth. Valten rode over to the opposite side of the lists from Gisela, where the duke and his family were seated in the north gallery.

 

Duke Wilhelm stood and declared, “The victor of today’s jousting event is … Valten Gerstenberg, Earl of Hamlin.”

 

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