Shifted By The Winds (51 page)

Carrie looked over and saw Clint talking earnestly to Amber. The expression on her little face was as intense as Carrie had ever seen, but she couldn’t detect even a trace of nervousness. Amber was ready. She sat easily on Eclipse, probably not even aware that people were discussing how such a small girl could handle such an enormous horse.

Carrie’s gaze swung to Robert. He was mounted on a black gelding named Mischief. In spite of his name, the gelding was calm and well-mannered. She admired her husband’s dark looks on the stunning horse, but had no concerns that Mischief could outpace Granite or Eclipse. She was sure Robert was disappointed he couldn’t ride his stallion, but she knew he was equally proud of the fact that Amber had won the honor.

Moses was astride Champ. The powerful horse easily handled Moses’ size but was not going to be competition for Granite. She smiled at him and continued scanning the field of competition.

There were several of Moses’ men on their horses. They would have fun, but they did not present a challenge. She glanced at them and looked around until her eyes settled on the last minute competitor.

Susan, inspired by the fact that both Carrie and Amber were riding, had accepted the offer of a Cromwell horse for the Tournament. She looked magnificent on Lucky Lady, a towering gray Thoroughbred that looked like a feminine version of Granite. Carrie inspected the mare carefully. Out of all the horses, this was the one she knew the least about, but she knew Susan was savvy enough to pick a mount that would give her the best advantage. The mare’s legs were powerful, and her wide chest spoke of speed, but Carrie’s examination brought her to the conclusion that Lucky Lady would not be as fast as Granite, and she knew Susan had never practiced capturing the rings.  She would not be a threat.

Granite snorted again and shied a little as a piece of cloth went flying by. Carrie quit inspecting the field of competitors and turned all her attention to her horse. Granite had almost lost the competition six years ago when he had been frightened by a loose handkerchief. It was up to her to keep him calm and focused. Blocking out everyone else around her, Carrie soothed Granite and murmured softly to him, her hand stroking his neck as her father mounted the platform built next to the arena.

Carrie, completely immersed in her horse, was surprised when she heard the horn blow. She knew Louisa had found the old tournament horn in a hiding place on Blackwell Plantation that the Union soldiers had not discovered. Perry flashed her a grin when he lowered the horn from his lips. He had been practicing for days to make sure he could do more than make the horn sputter. Carrie grinned back at him and turned toward her father as he climbed the stairs to the platform. The boisterous crowd fell completely silent.

Thomas, resplendent in a black suit that marked the importance of the occasion, smiled as he gazed out over the crowd. Carrie felt a surge of pride but pushed aside any thoughts other than the tournament as he began to speak.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it is now time for the
charge of the knights
.” Thomas’ deep voice rang out through the still air. The quiet seemed to grow even deeper as everyone listened intently. Not so long ago, the closest any of the people in this crowd could have gotten to a tournament was in their role as slave. To simply be part of the spectators was a momentous occasion. Not one person was taking it lightly.

Carrie straightened as her father turned to gaze at the group of competitors gathered below the platform. His eyes rested on her for a moment, warming her with their pride and love, and then he smiled at all of them. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Amber flash him a big grin.

“Ladies and gentlemen, you are gathered here today to participate in the most chivalrous and gallant sport known. It has been called the sport of kings, and well it should. It has come down to us from the Crusades, being at that time a very hazardous undertaking,” Thomas said solemnly.

Carrie shivered as she felt the years melt away. Her father was speaking the exact same words that Colonel James Benton had spoken every year of the Blackwell Tournament. It was as if no time at all had passed, but yet it also felt as if several lifetimes had been lived. She glanced over and caught Robert’s eye. She knew he was thinking the same thing she was—reliving the day they had begun to fall in love. She smiled at him lovingly and then turned her attention back to her father.

“The knights of that day rode in full armor, charging down the lists at each other with the intent that the best man would knock his opponent from his horse. It was a rough and dangerous pastime. Many were seriously hurt. Some were killed. But we, in this day, have gotten soft and tender—as well as much smarter, I believe—and have eliminated the danger and roughness of the sport.” Laughter rippled through the crowd, but as in years past, no one spoke up to mar the seriousness of the charge.

Thomas sobered as he leaned forward to address the riders. “But with all that, it is still a challenging and fascinating sport. One that tests the horsemanship, dexterity, skill, quickness of eye, and steadiness and control of the rider, and the speed, smoothness of gait, and training of the horse. It is an honorable sport and I do not need to mention that a knight taking any undue advantage of his opponents will be ruled out of the tournament.” His eyes bored into each competitors’ until he seemed confident he had made his point. “Now, for the rules.”

Carrie knew the rules by heart, even after all these years, but she listened attentively, still hardly believing she was actually going to ride.

“The three ring hangers are spaced twenty yards apart. The start is twenty yards from the first ring—making the total length of the list sixty yards. Any rider taking more than seven seconds from the start to the last ring will be ruled out. Should anything untoward happen during the tilt that would prevent the rider from having a fair try at the rings, he will so indicate by lowering his lance and making no try at the rings. The judges will decide whether he is entitled to another tilt.”

Carrie glanced over to where Matthew, Perry, June, Louisa and Abby sat, their solemn faces communicating they were aware of the importance of their role as judges.

“All rings must be taken off the lances by the judges,” Thomas continued. “No others will be counted. The rings on the first tilt will be two inches in diameter; on the second tilt, one and a half; on the third tilt, one; on the fourth tilt, three quarters; and on the fifth and last tilt—if there are any competitors left—one half inch.”

Carrie listened closely, allowing her mind to envision her capturing all of the rings on every tilt.

Thomas smiled and swept his arm grandly. “All of you are riding not only to win, but to gain the coveted honor of crowning the lady of your choice the Queen of Love and Beauty at the ball later tonight.”

Carrie cleared her throat loudly.

Thomas looked down with a grimace. “I’m sorry. Old habits die hard,” he said ruefully. “I should have said all of you are riding not only to win, but to gain the coveted honor of crowning the lady, or man,” he hesitated as he looked at Amber, “or
boy
of your choice the Queen or King of Love and Beauty at the ball later tonight.”

Everyone laughed but quieted quickly to hear the rest of the instructions. A sense of competition had charged the air as Thomas had been talking. The crowd, here for a celebration, suddenly seemed to realize the importance of what was about to happen.

Thomas continued. “The next seven riders will have the privilege of honoring the person of their choice as royalty-in-waiting for the queen or king. Only the members of the court will participate in the opening dance at the ball tonight. Good luck to you,” Thomas finished. “May the best
person
win!”

Another mighty blow on the horn announced the beginning of the competition. A rousing cheer rose from the crowd, along with a whoop from all the riders as they galloped their horses toward the start line.

Carrie felt a flurry of nervousness and tamped it down firmly. Granite’s confidence and steadiness would come from her. She gripped her lance tightly, ignoring everyone else around her as she stared down the list at the rings that already seemed impossibly small at two inches. Had they really been so tiny six years ago? She straightened in her saddle and pulled her shoulders back. She had waited all her life for this moment. She was going to compete, and she was going to win. She looked over to find Robert’s eyes fixed on her. “
Good luck
,” he mouthed.

Carrie smiled, blew him a kiss, and then touched the handkerchief he had given her the night before as her token. He touched his pocket lightly, his eyes sparkling with laughter. Carrie’s focus melted as her own laughter bubbled in her throat. In memory of the first tournament six years earlier, she had cut a lock of her hair and left it for him on his pillow before she joined Rose. He had been holding it tightly in his sleep when she had gotten in late.

“Ladies and gentleman, our first contestant is Knight Moses Samuels.”

Carrie’s full attention was pulled back to the arena. It was just as she had imagined it would be. The crowd and every other competitor seemed to melt away. The only thing that remained real was the list stretched out before her. She was aware of Moses finishing his run, but she was too focused to hear the results. It didn’t matter what anyone else did. Her only real competition was the rings dangling from their clasps. She imagined herself capturing them time and again until Thomas’ voice broke through her concentration.

“Our next contestant is Knight Carrie Borden,” Thomas said, not bothering to hide the pride in his voice.

Carrie moved forward, a steadying hand on Granite’s neck. He was excited, but there was no nervousness in him as he waited for her signal. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the wave of the flag. As she leaned forward slightly, Granite shot down the list. Carrie brought her lance up, her eyes focused on the first ring. It was hers! The second ring was captured just as easily. Pushing down a sense of triumph, she concentrated on the third ring, allowing a smile to split her lips when it slid easily onto her lance. Granite thundered to the end of the list and then settled into an easy trot toward the judges’ table. Before they got there, the next contestant was off.

Only then did Carrie realize Amber was right after her. She watched closely as Amber captured all three rings easily. Both she and Eclipse gazed out over the crowd with triumphant expressions as they trotted over to join Carrie.

“Well done!” Carrie called to Amber as Matthew counted her rings and then waved her over to join the next round of competition.

“You too!” Amber called back, her face glowing with happiness.

No one in the crowd moved as the competition continued. Carrie remembered that the Blackwell crowd had all melted away after the first list, only returning for the last few tilts when the competition had been narrowed down. Not today. It was clear no one wanted to miss a second of the fun.

There had been an initial field of fifteen knights. Only ten had been able to capture all three rings. They lined up for the next tilt. Carrie smiled at Robert, Moses, Susan and Amber, and then put her entire focus on the list again. She had expected all four of them to make it through the first tilt, but now she had to prepare. She knew the rings were only a half inch smaller, but they seemed much tinier. She forced herself to breathe evenly, murmuring to Granite while she waited her turn. This time she was fifth in line.

Once again Granite ran like lightning. Once again she captured all three rings.