Page 69 of Picking Up the Gauntlet

“Stop rocking on that stool, Gerold, you’re going to fall,” said Jonathon, having stepped in as the role of the boy’s father lately. “Don’t forget about your chores.”

“I won’t,” said Gerold, hopping off the stool and grabbing a broom. “I’m going to do my chores fast so I can go watch Lady Raven again.” He started sweeping quickly, raising a cloud of dust.

“Slow down or we’ll choke to death,” he told Gerold.

“But I want to go watch Lady Raven!”

“There will be nothing to see because I’m about to stop her.”

“Aye, you’d better go after her,” agreed Avery.

“I will,” Jonathon answered with a sigh, changing his shoes. His gaze fell on Raven’s armor in the corner. He’d still been working on it late at night, even though she told him not to. When Jonathon made a promise, he wanted to see it through. Besides, this would be all Raven had to remember him by shortly, and he never wanted her to forget him, so he was doing an extra good job on it.

“I need to get her out of there before the competitors awake and see what she’s doing,” he mumbled. “It won’t bode well with her suitors to know she’s a better shot than them. Plus, her father is going to kill me for not keeping a tighter lead on her.”

Jonathon headed out the door at a brisk pace, making his way over to the archery range. Some of the competitors who had arrived for the tournament were already up and about. He hoped to hell he wasn’t too late.

* * *

“Raven, we need to go now,” said Lark, looking over her shoulder. “The knights are startin’ to wander over. Ye dinna want them to see ye.”

“Actually, I do,” said Raven, reaching over her shoulder to pull another arrow from the quiver on her back. “I’ve decided to purposely practice in front of them to scare them off.”

“Och, nay,” said Lark. “Yer father isna goin’ to like that.”

“I don’t care,” said Raven, nocking the arrow and pulling back the bowstring. A few of the men who had pitched their tents in front of the castle saw her and headed in her direction. “If I can’t have Jonathon, then I will do everything in my power to keep any of the other men from wanting me for their bride.” She loosed the arrow and it hit the target, just off center. “Damn,” she spat aloud, pulling out another arrow. “I need to be perfect at this.”

“Cousin, stop yer cursin’. Someone might hear ye.”

“I hope they do,” she answered, wanting to do anything in her power to push these men away.

“Ye’re no’ still thinkin’ about really enterin’ the tournament, are ye?” Lark asked in a low voice.

“Shhh.” Raven’s eyes scanned the area and she leaned in closer to Lark. “I already have,” she said, smiling.

“Ye have? How?”

“As you know, the competitors have been signing up as they arrive.”

“Aye. So?”

“So, yesterday, when Jonathon went to work in the forge, I volunteered to watch over the table with the sign-up sheet for the tournament.”

“Ye did?”

“Aye. Just for a while. My father thought I wanted to meet my potential husbands. Actually, I wanted to sneak another name onto the list. Sir Jonathon Nevar of Lyon, France. I sent the master of ceremonies to fetch me a drink, and when he’d gone, I wrote the name down on the sheet. I even made up a crest and have been constructing it in the ladies’ solar. I will sew it on my tunic and wear it during the tournament.” She smiled proudly at Lark.

“Please tell me ye dinna,” said Lark, looking as if she were going to swoon.

“I most certainly did, and it was easier than I thought,” she said, still smiling. “I used Jonathon’s first name since I like it. And Nevar is my name spelled backwards.” She giggled at her cleverness.

“Nay!” Lark’s eyes opened wide. “Ye shouldna have done that. It is insane. Ye canna go forward with this foolish plan.”

Raven scowled. “Neither can I agree to marry whichever fool wins the contest, when I’m in love with Jonathon.”

“Och, Raven. This is bad. Very bad,” said Lark shaking her head.

“Don’t say a word about it to anyone. Only Albert knows, because I’ve convinced him to act as my squire.”