-13-
The crowd cheered as the knights walked out into the arena. Ryll felt her blood pulsing through her veins as excitement mixed with fear. She was doing it. This was real. She gripped the pommel of her sword with her left hand, squeezing it to let out some of her nerves. She saw Uther stand, Morgana at his side, and wave a hand to silence the crowd.
"Welcome all to the Tournament of Knights where each man will be tested on his skills at archery, sword fighting, and jousting. The rules are as follows: each man must uphold the knight's code showing chivalry to each opponent. May the best man win! Let the tournament begin!"
The cheering started up again. Targets were rolled out into the arena and the knights began to line up, five at a time, to shoot. To Ryll's horror, she saw that each knight had taken off his helmet so that he could see the target more clearly. Her armor allowed her to move easily enough to shoot, but she couldn't shoot straight with a helmet. She slipped behind a line of knights watching, pulling off her helmet and hiding her face under the deep hood of her cloak. She looked around, but no one had noticed. Everyone's eyes were set on the shooting. She sighed, tucking the helmet under her arm and stringing her bow. She got back in line and waited for her turn to come. There were moans and cheers from the crowd as each knight shot. The round was scored from three shots each. The total score was added up for later in the tournament. Ryll eyed the multicolored targets. So far the knights had hit the red and blue circles but none yet had hit the golden circle worth nine points or the innermost X that marked the ten-point bull's eye. She smiled smugly.
When her turn came, Ryll confidently took her spot. A few knights had gotten bull's eyes, but none in the dead center and no more than one for their set of arrows. She waited for the command to draw and aim. "Fire!" Five arrows were released. Ryll's arrow hit the line between the gold and the red. Since it had hit the line, it counted as nine points. Not good enough though.
"Ready, draw, aim…. Fire!"
She shot. This time the arrow hit just outside the X within the gold circle.
The crowd cheered. She looked over to where Arthur stood. He watched her appraisingly. He didn't suspect yet. She pushed back her fear.
She readied her third arrow, this time counting her breaths. In, out, in, out… She made sure her hand was anchored right along her jawbone, the fletchings tickling her cheek. "Fire!" She let the arrow soar. It hit the exact center of the target with a satisfying thump. The crowd went wild. She smiled to herself, stepping back from the firing line.
Arthur was in the last group of archers. He had a crossbow as opposed Ryll's recurve bow. He was very accurate. In fact, he scored all in the gold. One point less than Ryll. The crowd went wild for him, and Ryll clapped politely.
For the next round, the targets were pulled back and the archers took their places once more. Ryll watched with baited breath as the archers shot. Most missed the bull's eye by a few inches, some even hit the black and blue circles. When Ryll took her place, she let her breath even out. The roar of the crowd disappeared, and she was standing alone, bow at her side, target before her. She took a deep breath and drew, notching the arrow and touching the feathers to her jaw line. Her eyes narrowed in on the bull's eye.
"Fire!" She released. The arrow twanged as it left the taut string. It embedded itself in the center of the bull's eye. There was a roar from the crowd.
"Ready, aim!" She readied herself again, letting the sound of the crowd disappear, listening to the wind and aiming her arrow slightly to the left to counter it.
"Fire!" Another arrow in the center of the target, brushing the other arrow. She didn't let herself get excited. She went through the actions again, and the third arrow embedded itself directly next to the others forming a cluster around the exact center of the bull's eye. The crowd was cheering for her now. She stepped back from the line, self-consciously touching her hood to make sure it still covered her face entirely.
"Good shooting," someone said from behind her. She felt a hand on her shoulder. She recognized Arthur's voice.
"Thank you," she said without looking around. Arthur stepped up to take his place on the line, crossbow ready. He did well this round too, but not as well as Ryll. She felt a trill of excitement. She was already winning.
The first round was over and the knights went back to their tents to prepare for the next round. The crowd cheered them out of the arena. Ryll found Merlin waiting in her tent when she got back.
"You were amazing," he said, smiling.
"Thank you." Ryll threw back her hood, grinning. "Do you think anyone suspects me?" she asked.
"No, I don't think anyone would guess that you're a girl."
"Thanks."
"I didn't mean girls can't fight, just…."
"I know, most people don't think girls can fight."
"You can."
"Sword fighting next, right?" Ryll picked up her sword.
"Yeah. Are you ready?" Merlin asked. Ryll looked over at Merlin. She could see some worry lingering behind his eyes though he tried to hide it.
"Yes. I think so." Ryll flexed her arm. "I've just never fought quite like this. Single-combat with men twice if not three times my size. But I'm quick. I'm strong enough to hold my own."
A horn sounded from beyond the tent. Ryll looked over to the entrance of the tent. "It's time," she said. She slid her sword into its sheath and slid the helmet over her head.
"Good luck."
Ryll nodded before stepping out of the tent. The arena had been cleared and the knights were lined up. Numbers were handed out at random to make up the order or the fights. Ryll reached forward to draw a seven. They paired off. Ryll felt a stab of fear. What if Arthur was her opponent? She was somewhat relieved to see that it wasn't him. Her opponent was a tall, muscular looking man. Fortunately, he was not as big as some of the knights in the arena. They went in turns, each fighting against the other. The winners moved onto the next round while the losers were disqualified. Ryll waited anxiously for her turn to come around. When it did, she steadied herself, pushing back fear as she faced the other knight. Swords were drawn and the signal was given to start fighting.
He swung first, forceful and sudden. Ryll hardly had a chance to bring up her sword to block the blow. The blow hit her sword with such a force that she staggered backwards, arm vibrating painfully. She bit down, trying not to cry out. She recovered as quickly as she could, feigning toward the right and then catching the knight off guard toward the left. It was a matter of staying ahead of him. She darted aside as he swung at her and then brought her sword up toward his head. He blocked and she swung her sword around, knocking his aside with quick precision. She felt her arm recover as the ring worked its magic. She felt a twinge of guilt. She should have taken it off before competing. This wasn't fair.
She shook the thought from her head. Right now she needed to win. Or survive at the least. Her opponent swung his sword at her head. She ducked. Then leapt as he swung at her feet. His motions angered her. She swung back at him, catching his sword squarely in front of him and heaving him off balance before sending a frenzy of sword slashes at him, pushing him back and leaving him no chance to fight back. He parried every blow, but she could see his arms weakening under her blows. Ryll executed a couple of complicated swipes and the knight tripped, his feet tangling as they tried to follow Ryll's. She finished him off by knocking his sword out of his hands. She brought the point of her blade to his neck, showing that she was the winner. Cheers went up from the crowd. She pulled back, offering a hand to the fallen knight. He took it, and she heaved him up.
"Good fighting," he said, bowing slightly.
She nodded. "You too," she said, glad her voice was muffled by her helmet. She sheathed her sword, taking her place in the lineup of winners. She felt as if her head were on fire. Sweat dripped down her brow, but she couldn't take her helmet off. How could knights stand to wear armor like this? She felt fatigued, but with jousting she could at least sit down for awhile – even if it was on a moving horse as an opponent tried to knock her off.
Slowly the knights fought until the winners were lined up in one line and the losers were escorted out of the arena. Arthur had moved on easily, taking out his enemy in less than a minute. Ryll had watched in awe as he fought. She was quick-footed, sure, but he was plain strong. Everything he did was calculated and backed with a force to be reckoned with. For a second she doubted herself. She'd just have to fight harder if she faced him – when she faced him. She bit her lip. There was a lot of fighting left; she knew she shouldn't get overconfident.
The knights were given a twenty-minute respite to cool off before the jousting began. Ryll made her way wearily back to her tent. She took off her helmet, sighing with relief.
Merlin came into her tent, startling her. "Sorry," he said, seeing her jump. "I just wanted to bring you some water to cool off your face." He presented her with a bowl and a cloth.
"Thank you. It's so hot in that helmet, I thought I was going to melt."
"I have to get back to Arthur, but you're doing great." He threw her a grin before rushing out of the tent.
Ryll washed her face, letting the cool water run down the back of her armor. Jousting next. She was a brilliant horse rider, but she had only had occasion to joust once and that was with Arthur the previous morning. It was insane going into the competition like this, but she had to do it. She tried to convince herself that she could win. When the horn rang out for the third round, Ryll put on her helmet and grabbed her jousting lance. Her horse stood steady as she mounted and rode out toward the arena. The knights rode once around the arena and then lined up to receive numbers again. This time Ryll was third. She cringed.
The first two riders prepared themselves. Their jousting lances held out before them, they kicked their horses into motion. The two steeds surged forward, never hesitating as the other rider neared, lance pointed straight at his rider. Ryll was suddenly glad she had a real war horse to ride. Owl might be alright in battle, but she would shy away from jousting – at least jousting with a crowd roaring and other horses on the sidelines champing at the bit. It would be too much for her. It was almost too much for Ryll.
One rider went flying as the jousting lance hit him square in the chest. The crowd let out moans and cheers as the victor rode out of the arena and the loser moved on after collecting his horse.
Ryll was up next. It had come so fast, she hardly had time to prepare herself. She rode up to where she was supposed to start, the black horse trotting steadily out to meet his opponent. He pawed at the ground, the feathers around his hooves flying. At least someone was confident. She lifted the lance. Suddenly it felt so heavy. For a moment she panicked, but then she remembered Arthur's instruction. She held it up, positioning it against the saddle and holding it firmly in place. A horn rang out and her horse sprang into action, causing her to lose her balance for a moment. She righted herself quickly, repositioning the lance and staring down her opponent through the slit in her helmet. She felt light-headed, like she might suffocate. Everything seemed to slow for a moment – the rider was taking forever to get to her. Then he was suddenly there. Ryll brought her lance up a fraction of an inch at the last minute and felt the satisfying pressure of it striking the other knight. He lurched backwards but not before his lance struck Ryll's arm with a pain so strong she nearly fell off her horse. She cried out in pain. The other rider went down hard, his horse galloping away from him, startled by the motion. Ryll brought her horse up, somehow managing to keep the lance in her grip. Everyone was cheering for her. She winced in pain, riding back to her tent.
She sunk onto the cot after tying up her horse. It didn't feel fair healing. She reached up and pulled the ring from her neck. The pain worsened in her arm. She bit back a moan. "It's not fair to heal," she said to herself. It wouldn't really feel like winning if she healed every wound and ache she received in battle. But if she won without using the ring; then she would feel like she really had won.
"You've made it to the fourth round," Merlin's voice came from the entrance of the tent. Ryll looked up at him, eyes blurring a little with weariness. "Are you alright?" He looked down at her hands, spotting the ring she had taken off. "Why did you take it off?" he asked in alarm.
"It's not fair to heal when everyone else has to suffer. I want to win fairly," Ryll told him.
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" His eyes were rimmed with worry.
"I don't want to have an advantage."
"But you're already at a disadvantage…."
"Am I?" Ryll looked up at him.
"I don't mean that you're weak," he said quickly. "I just mean, realistically."
"I know what you mean. Will you keep it safe for me?" She held it out to him. He looked questioningly at her. "I trust you. So please trust me to do this."
He hesitated and then took the ring from her, tucking it into the pocket of his jacket. "I'll keep it for you, but if you need it-"
"Then I'll know who to find."
"Good luck. You have another twenty-minute respite then it's the fight where you choose your weapon of choice. The last man standing is the winner." Ryll nodded. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine." Truthfully she was a little sore and a lot exhausted, but she dabbed her face with the damp cloth. Her arm hurt, but at least it was her left arm, not her right. "I'm ready."
"Are you using your sword?" Merlin asked.
Ryll nodded. "I'm best with a sword next to the bow." She nodded toward the arena. "How is Arthur doing?"
"He drew number twenty, so he should be up soon. I should get back out there."
"Of course."
"Good luck. I know you'll do well."
Ryll watched him leave. She sat back down and winced in pain. Everything hurt. She knew it could be worse, but it felt as if she had fallen off a galloping horse, been attacked by a humbata, and beat in the arm with a club. She kept her mind on the prize: winning a tournament against men, proving she could be strong, be a knight. She had gotten this far.
The horn sounded after what seemed like hours. The jousters were done, the twenty minutes was up. Ryll felt herself going through the motions. She sheathed her sword once more, putting on her helmet.
When she entered the arena there were only nine knights left. They lined up. Arthur was at the head. Ryll positioned herself at the other end of the line. The crowd cheered them on until Uther rose, waving his hand until the crowd was quiet. Ryll saw Morgana at his side. Her eyes passed over Ryll, and then stopped on her. Ryll looked down. There was no way Morgana could know it was her, but something about her gaze made Ryll wonder. When she looked up again, Morgana was looking elsewhere. She sighed. The chances of someone recognizing her in her armor were slim.
"People of Camelot," Uther began. "Here we have our knights who have faced three of the four trials. They have proven themselves to be strong in battle. Now comes the fourth and final part of the tournament. Each knight will have his weapon of choice. The last man standing is the winner. The rules are this: keep to the knight's code; show mercy; and be brave. Let the fourth trial begin!"
The knights stepped out into the arena. Ryll drew her sword, eyeing the men around her. She was small; they'd probably pass her by for awhile. The horn sounded and the fighting began.
Ryll turned to face a knight who swung a mace at her. She noticed Arthur across the arena. Good – she wouldn't have to face him yet. She swung her sword up to catch the mace, letting the weapon wrap around her sword before thrusting the sword into the ground. She kicked out, unbalancing the knight and loosening his grip on the mace. She pushed her advantage and drew her sword out of the loosened chain of the mace. She thrust the hilt at his helmet, knocking him down to the ground. He lay unconscious. She moved on to her next opponent, skillfully knocking his sword aside within a few swift motions. Her arm was beginning to ache worse than ever and her sword arm was tiring. She kept going, working her way around the outskirts of the skirmish. Two more knights fell to her blade, knocked unconscious. She turned to face the next. A shadow flitted at the edge of her vision. She whirled around. There was no one there. She felt something touch her shoulder and she whirled around, but all the knights were engaged across the field. Was she losing her mind? It had to be weariness taking a toll on her. Then she saw it. Across the arena behind where Arthur was fighting sword against axe. It was a shadowed figure with features hidden behind a black cowl. It was the figure she had seen in her nightmares. Ryll felt her heart speed up. Was she hallucinating? She wasn't dreaming now. She felt a sharp pain in her right arm and turned around to see that a knight had come up behind her while she was distracted. She swung her sword to catch the next blow, but a jolt of pain snaked up to her shoulder and she almost dropped her sword.
And then another knight came forward to engage them. She slipped aside as the two men went at each other, the newcomer trying to catch the other off guard. The newcomer knocked the sword from the other's hands and brought him to his knees. The other yielded. Ryll took advantage and hacked at the knight's sword, carrying out a series of vicious and quick jabs. He was tired and weakened as she swiftly dodged his blows with nimble feet. Finally she thrust him down, knocking the sword from his hands.
She was trembling now. Shaking out of pure exhaustion. She turned to face the remaining knights, sword weak in her hand.
One stood.
Ryll met Arthur's eyes from across the field. It was like her vision. The shadow still hovered at his shoulder, looking straight at Ryll. She was terrified. More terrified than she had ever been in her life before. Her nightmare was coming true. She wanted to stop, wanted to give up, but the end was in sight and Arthur was already coming at her, sword raised. She mustered her last reserves of strength and ran forward to meet him.
It was like no sword fight she had ever experienced before. She found strength and quickness when she thought none existed, counter-attacking and attacking Arthur with a furious force. Everything up until this point had been a game. This was the real thing. She brought out the best of her skills and it was like dancing.
Their feet moved in rhythm, one never caught off guard when the other lunched or darted. The two swords were silver blurs within the air, one glancing off the other with a resounding clang. Everyone was silent in the crowds, watching with baited breath. For the time, Ryll even forgot about the shadow.
The fight seemed to go on forever. Time seemed to slow and everything seemed to fade so that it was her and Arthur and their swords. Then her foot slipped, her arm seized up and she was on her knees before him. It was as if her mind played out the next few seconds before she could react. Her sword was still in hand. With one last surge of strength, she rolled to the side, jumping to her feet and swinging her sword so hard at Arthur's that he lost his grip on it. The sword flew through the air to land a few feet away. Ryll was breathing hard. She had done it. She had won.
She blinked, still on her knees. She couldn't do it. She couldn't win. She realized this now. There was no way she could win without revealing her identity. She couldn't do that and rub a victory in Arthur's face. She let the sword drop from her hand. She knew she could have beaten him, but she didn't.
The crowd roared for their prince. Ryll felt a trickle of disappointment, but what was she trying to prove? She got this far. She had proven to herself that she could. Arthur held out a hand to help her to her feet. Ryll took it hesitantly.
"Well done," Arthur told her. "That was incredible swordsmanship."
She ducked her head. "Thank you. You too." She meant to duck away, to disappear. She had a foot in the right direction. But then Uther spoke.
"Our victor is none other than your Prince Arthur." This was met with raucous applause. "And in a close second is Sir Rowan of Greymark," he added. "That was some skilled sword fighting. Please, join us at the victory feast." He motioned toward Ryll. She froze.
"Please do," Arthur told her. "Maybe you could teach me a thing or two about footwork," he added, smiling.
"Sir Rowan? You may take off your helmet and show the people your face," Uther said, his smile slipping.
Ryll's blood froze.
"Is something wrong?" Arthur asked.
Ryll looked up at him. She could see no way out of this. "You might not like what you see," she said.
Arthur smiled weakly, a confused expression on his face. "Whatever do you mean?" he asked.
Ryll took a deep breath. She could see Merlin standing in the distance, his face tense with worry. "I mean," Ryll paused to pull the helmet from her head, "you might not like who I am."
There were gasps from the crowd as Ryll's honey hair fell in curls around her shoulders, set off against the chain mail. She couldn't take her eyes off of Arthur. His expression had gone from confused to angry.
"What's this?" Uther's voice rang out. "This is against the rules."
Morgana looked at her with fear in her eyes as if to say 'what have you done?' Merlin stood motionless.
"I'm sorry," Ryll said softly. "I just wanted to prove that I could fight."
"Well you've done that. You're not a knight though. You had no right to enter into this tournament. Does Rowan of Greymark even exist?" Arthur asked angrily.
"I don't think so." Ryll bowed her head. "All my life I've ran and hidden and fought to survive. I wanted to prove to myself that I could survive. That I could fight. It's everything to me to be able to defend myself."
"Guards! Take her to the dungeons," Uther's voice rang out.
"No, father, wait," Arthur started, but Uther glared at him.
"Did you know of this?"
"No."
"It was all my idea," Ryll said quickly. "No one helped me."
"Someone had to have helped you. We'll find out who. Guards." Uther motioned to two guards who came forward to grab Ryll.
"Wait, is this really necessary?" Arthur asked Uther.
"She broke the rules. She is not a knight, and she had no right to enter this tournament. I will deal with her later." Uther's tone implied that the conversation was over. Arthur opened his mouth to argue, but Uther cut him off. "Lock her in the dungeons."