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Konrad was surely breathing hard now beneath his helmet. Aimee could only imagine how exhausted he must be under the combined weight of his armor and his mighty broadsword. When he wielded it, swinging high and wide, Sir Armand was one of the few present who was both tall and strong enough to withstand the onslaught.

The minute Konrad’s attack was done, that was when her husband seemed at his most vulnerable, for Sir Armand was devious and seemed always to be prodding for an opening in his defense, setting Konrad onto his back foot and rocking him with a counterattack which managed to be both subtle and unanticipated.

Sir Armand seemed always to be looking as though he were doing one thing and then switching to another. Even Aimee could see his footwork was clever and light for his size, where Konrad’s tended to be more heavy and lumbering.

Sir Douglas swore under his breath. “At least Kentigern’s strong as an ox,” he said. “He has the strength to keep going where a normal man will grow exhausted.”

Aimee bit her lip. Her own inclination told her that Sir Armand was not an ordinary opponent. She suspected that the longer the fight continued, the tighter the traps Sir Armand was weaving would grow about Konrad’s limbs.

Even as the thought occurred to her, she saw the trap sprung and muffled her cry with her hand as Sir Armand saw his opening and pressed his advantage. She closed her eyes and heard the mingled gasps and cries from the watching audience.

“Is it over?” she asked, even as she opened one eye to watch her husband drop his sword and yield.

“It is over,” Sir Douglas answered with a groan.

Konrad reached up to wrench off his helmet, showing his hair drenched with sweat and a face quite red with exertion. He dragged his breath in and out a moment before extending his arm to Sir Armand.

A grinning Sir Armand clasped wrists with him, and Aimee saw their lips move as they exchanged some words. Aimee saw Sir Armand laugh, and both stood a moment catching their breath and conversing until Sir Chaucey approached to officially proclaim the winner.

Aimee felt herself slump with relief in her seat. Sir Douglas began a spirited theory on the change in Sir Armand’s combative style as Aimee watched her husband’s relaxed face and attitude. He truly displayed at his best, she thought dreamily, when you saw this side of him. He clapped Sir Armand once more between his shoulder blades and then, pausing only to retrieve his sword, stalked from the ring.

“Where will he go now?” Aimee asked, interrupting her companion’s excited chatter.

“To wash and scrub up, I should not wonder,” Sir Douglas hazarded. “He will be soaked through with sweat.”

Aimee glanced back toward the sidelines where she saw Jakeman had already dismissed the hostages and was scurrying off, likely to heat water for his master. “Could you kindly escort me back to my tent, Sir Douglas?” Aimee asked.

“Right gladly,” he responded at once, offering his arm.

“Thank you.” Aimee felt keen to return, though she was not sure Konrad would be much in the mood for the celebrations after his defeat.

By the time they had navigated the crowds at the sedate pace Sir Douglas seemed to think fitted to a lady and made their way to the first meadow where the Kentigern tent stood, Aimee could hear her husband’s voice from within.

As they approached, Jakeman came out carrying two large empty pitchers. “My lady,” he greeted her. “His lordship is taking his wash. Should I bring out two chairs?” Aimee guessed this was the discreet servant’s way of warning her his master was naked.

She turned to Sir Douglas. “You will want to return to your own pavilion to wash, I expect, Sir Douglas.” She thought he looked a little crestfallen. “Perhaps you would like to return here directly after and bring Sir Fulke and Sir Leonard with you once they have cleaned up? I have brought some wineskins with me and some sundry foods I thought would travel. Perhaps Jakeman could fetch us three more chairs and another table, and we could take our ease this afternoon in one another’s company?”

Sir Douglas brightened at once, rubbing his hands together. “I can answer for all three of us that we would be delighted, Lady Kentigern, if you truly think his lordship would be agreeable.”

“Yes, of course,” Aimee replied blithely. After all, if he was not, then he could always loll on the bed within while the boisterous younger knights sat outside. She could move between the two where her presence would be most welcomed.

Jakeman nodded and went haring off in search of the additional furnishings.

“I will see you presently, then,” Aimee said, and with a final wave to Sir Douglas, she ducked inside the pavilion.

Konrad was stood facing away from her, vigorously soaping his chest. Aimee caught her breath. As always, she felt completely awed by his powerful physique. Clearing her throat, she let him know she was present, tearing her devouring eyes away from the view. Even the size of his calves and thighs was a source of wonder to her. She had never really seen his rear before, and she found the sight strangely enticing. She could stand and stare at him all day if only he would give her permission!

“Do you need any help?” she offered croakily.

He glanced over his shoulder. “No, keep your distance. I’m filthy,” he said shortly.

Aimee heaved a sigh of disappointment. “When you are clean, I have some salve for sore muscles,” she offered. “I could minister it, if that would be agreeable to you?” She held her breath for his answer.

When he gave a throaty rumble, she decided optimistically to take this for assent and made for her saddlebag. She soon found the bottle of green gelatinous fluid which her father imported from Samare. It was extracted from the fleshy leaf of a plant that grew there in abundance and was purported to contain soothing qualities.

“I have invited your friends to join us presently,” she said in a conversational tone. “I thought I could serve the wines and the flatbreads and cheeses I brought with us, and we could sit outside in the sun.”

He nodded, but made no other rejoinder, and Aimee carried the lotion over to the bed and sat down as Konrad stood in a large basin and emptied two jugs of water over his head to rinse away the soap. Grabbing a large drying cloth that Jakeman must have set aside for him, he wrapped it about himself and made his way toward the bed.