Medieval 01 - Untamed

way, a single tigerish leap, as though chain mail and helm, gauntlets and chausses, sword and shield were made of airy moonlight rather than stout metal. Squires handed over long lances. Each knight couched his weapon, holding it level for the charge to come.
    Behind Meg a child cried and a dog growled and a knight’s falcon screamed its ire; and throttled within Meg’s throat was her own despairing scream.
    The two stallions reared and trumpeted a challenge that raised a cheer from the assembled knights.Instants later the stallions charged across the meadow, sending chunks of dirt and grass flying. Thunder rolled from the big hooves as the knights raced toward each other, shields raised and lances braced.
    A rending clash and slamming of lances, shields, and horses burst over the meadow. Both stallions staggered, recovered, and galloped to the far end of the meadow for another charge. Again thunder rolled. Again came the clash of metal and the thudding of flesh. Again the stallions staggered and regrouped for another pass.
    And then again.
    And again.
    â€œThey are too well matched,” Simon said grimly. “The stallions are within a stone’s weight of one another and well-trained. Unless Duncan makes a mistake or a lance breaks—”
    The crack of a shattering lance punctuated Simon’s words. But it wasn’t Duncan’s lance that broke.
    It was Dominic’s.
    Though he deflected the force of Duncan’s blow with his shield, the sudden destruction of his lance unhorsed Dominic. He gained his feet quickly and ran toward his stallion, but Duncan’s charger pivoted to cut off Dominic from Crusader.
    Duncan’s stallion pivoted again, striking Dominic with his shoulder, sending him rolling. Even as Dominic pulled himself to his feet, Duncan charged again. Cheers from the Reevers mixed with groans and curses from Blackthorne’s knights.
    Watching in horror, Meg laced her fingers together and bit back the scream that was tearing her throat as the massive brown stallion bore down on Dominic. Duncan’s lance was leveled. If Dominic turned and fled he would be run down by the stallion. If he drew his sword and tried to fight, he would be killed by Duncan’s lance or run down where he stood.
    â€œ Nay! ”
    No one heard Meg’s terrible cry, for every voice was raised in cheers or exhortations. Simon held Meg at his side with fingers like bands of steel, preventing her from running onto the field of battle. She struggled wildly, then stood still, knowing there was nothing she could do.
    Dominic stood unmoving, as though he had decided to take his death head-on. Every knight in the meadow expected him to leap aside at the last instant, evading both lance and stallion. It was a common tactic on the battlefield, giving the unmounted knight enough time for a friend to charge over and help the downed knight.
    But no one would help Dominic. It was forbidden by custom and by law. God’s judgment, not the speed or number of a man’s friends, decreed the survivor of ritual combat.
    Without help Dominic would be able to evade Duncan for a time, but soon a man afoot would tire or stumble. Then Duncan would be on him and Dominic would die.
    The brown stallion charged toward Dominic, picking up speed with every stride. Dominic waited, half crouched, his weight on the balls of his feet, obviously ready to spring to either side. Poised to follow his quarry, Duncan lifted slightly out of his saddle, a savage grimace on his face as he bore down on the Norman lord.
    In order to evade the lance, Dominic had to stand until the last possible instant before crossing or turning aside from the charger’s path. By the time Dominic moved, the horse was so close that Dominic was pelted with the dirt spurting from beneath the stallion’s feet. Just before he would have been crushed beneath the charger’s hooves, he sprang away.
    An odd sound rose above the crowd, a groan thatcould have been for or against the lord of Blackthorne Keep. Again he was charged by Duncan. Again Dominic leaped away at the last instant. The game of cat and mouse continued for several more passes. Each time Duncan charged he leaned a little more forward in the stirrups, eager to end the lopsided battle.
    On the sixth charge, Dominic leaped once more, but it was toward Duncan, not away. Grabbing Duncan’s right foot, Dominic heaved upward with all his considerable strength. The tactic