Beauty's Quest

by C. S. Johnson

  “I doubt you had your fingers broken on purpose, and by someone who saw you as a threat.”

  Rose ducked around the door as Theo hurried to get a glass of ale.

  Roderick huffed. “It’s not me who is the threat. The only evidence that Aragonian oaf has any brains left is how he recognized me as her ward.”

  Marsor. He had attacked Roderick, out of some kind of sick revenge against her. Rose put her hand over her mouth, though whether it was to keep herself from crying out or from getting sick, she could not say.

  “It was a good thing he didn’t get a hold of my winnings, at least,” Roderick continued. “Thank you for keeping them for me.”

  “It was no trouble,” Theo said. “I’m sorry I lost track of you at the end of your last round. If I’d caught up with you sooner, I could have saved you from his attack.”

  Roderick shook his head. “He had more strength than I,” he said as he gulped down his drink.

  “I heard from his men, he’d only made it through six rounds.” Rose could hear Theo moving around. “No doubt he was jealous of you.”

  “Of course,” Roderick said with a puff of pride. “But the man’s a fool. He’ll get his comeuppance.”

  Oh, I will definitely see to that, Rose thought angrily.

  “You’re probably right about making sure My Lady doesn’t hear. I’m not at my best, to be sure. And I’d hate to fail Leea in protecting her.” Roderick choked. “The Queen has so much to worry about these days as it is, and I can’t help her.”

  “Was she the one who wrote that letter to you?”

  Rose peeked out enough to see the surprise on Roderick’s face turn into resignation. “Yes,” he admitted.

  “Has Captain Locke or Lannister heard anything from them?”

  As Theo changed the subject, Rose almost leapt out and interrupted, wanting to know what her mother would write to Roderick, and why she wouldn’t write to Rose about it first. She steadied herself a second later, but it became harder to stand still as she continued to listen.

  “No. They’re keeping an eye out for a good ship down by the docks, as the Princess suggested. But there hasn’t been any Rhonian ship to come by this way, and no letters through hawk.”

  Rose could almost see the determined look on Theo’s face. “It’ll be all right.”

  “Leea is my best friend, you know,” Roderick admitted quietly. “She’s always been lonely. Stefanos has largely ignored her since the princess’ birth, and Magdalina has taken her children away from her, either by curse or by proxy. In the end, she had no one but me and her fairy friends.”

  Rose suddenly felt a rush of sorrow and shame; she’d never thought about how difficult it must have been for her mother to live with her curse. No matter how determined Rose was never to fall in love, she knew it was nearly impossible for her mother to stop loving her. As much as she never let herself dream of it, either, Rose wanted to have children of her own. It was the greatest robbery Magdalina could have done to her.

  “You must be very special to her,” Theo comforted.

  “She and I bonded after Stefanos sent his brother away to marry the Aragonian duchess. Hebert was her best friend before I came along. I don’t think he liked leaving her either, especially at his brother’s command. He and Stefanos disagreed a lot.”

  “If she is anything like Rose, I can imagine leaving wasn’t easy on her, nor you.”

  Rose felt her face flush over, happy at the compliment even as she began to feel guilty for listening in on their conversation.

  Theo sighed. “Let me go get Mary, and see if she can fix you up some more. I don’t know if this will be enough without her. You should get some sleep after she checks you. Rose will have Sophia and Philip to help her with the jousting tomorrow. You need rest.”

  “What if she needs more help?”

  Rose already knew the answer Theo would give.

  “I’ll do it,” Theo told him. “I’m sure I can excuse myself from under the Abbess’ watch for a—”

  Rose blocked out his words as she silently hurried away, crushing Isra’s letter in her fists as anger settled into her bones. Theo’s kindness, Roderick’s faithfulness, and Marsor’s treachery weighed in on too many places in her heart. For the moment, she chose to focus on the problem she knew how to solve.

  Marsor would suffer greatly for his actions, Rose fervently decided.

  *14*

  ҉

  ROSE FELT A SURGE OF satisfaction as she heard the distinctive crumbling of her opponent’s shield as it hit the ground behind her.

  “Yes!” She reared her horse in triumph, waving her lance into the air as the announcer declared her to be the victor for the eighth time since she’d taken the field. The audience roared with excitement.

  The announcer himself seemed to be leading the cheering charge. “Everyone is going wild for the antics of our new favorite—the short, spunky knight who can fell any foe and do it with flair!” he cried out, his voice barely projecting into the roaring stands.

  Rose opened her visor and winked over at Theo, who wore a smirk on his face just for her as she came over.

  “You know your horse is going to tire out faster if you keep doing the showy tricks,” he told her, as he handed her a fresh lance.

  When Theo had informed Rose he would be helping her alongside Sophia in the morning, rather than Roderick, Theo had not given her a specific reason. It was not hard, especially after hearing the conversation between Theo and Roderick, to figure out Philip and Mary were tending to Roderick. And while she was not happy with the decision to keep her from the truth, she felt a small, secret happiness at the thought Theo would be coming; they had rarely been apart for each other’s tournaments.

  “Then we’ll get another horse,” Rose assured him. “They have plenty of extra.”

  “This one seems to suit you well,” Theo argued playfully.

  “I can’t have too many more rounds. I’ve only got to last a few more before beating Marsor, anyway, right?” She nodded in the direction of his camp.

  Theo suddenly gripped her arm. “You’re not seriously more concerned about him than winning, are you?”

  “Of course not,” Rose lied. She wasn’t sure if he believed her. “That’s him coming this way, isn’t it?”

  “Rose ... ”

  “No, that’s really him, isn’t it?”

  Theo glanced over his shoulder. Rose could tell as he sighed what the answer to her question was. A burst of anger and bitter excitement rushed through her. She snapped her helmet’s visor down and reached out for her shield.

  “Here you go, Rose!” Sophia cheered. “I just finished putting a new shine into it.”

  “Thanks, Sophie.” Rose saluted her. “I’m glad you’re here today.”

  “Work has been fun in the forage,” Sophia said. “But nothing compares to working alongside you, Rose.”

  “That’s good, because no one does better work than you,” Rose commended.

  “Good luck in this round.”

  Rose looked to see the Marsor heading onto the field. She turned back to Theo. “What’s the best strategy for this one, do you think?”

  “He’s left-handed,” Theo told her. “When he carried his flag earlier, he took it with his left hand and secured it in his right.”

  “But he’s jousting right-handed?”

  “To hide his strong side, perhaps,” Theo guessed. “His shield will be harder to dislodge.”

  “Got it. Thanks.”

  “Be careful.” He leaned in closer. “Marsor has a foul temper, and he’s a known cheater. And he apparently has several reasons to hate you.”

  “Good,” Rose muttered. “I won’t feel bad about giving him more.”

  “Seriously, watch yourself out there.”

  The concern in his eyes was touching, even if it exasperated her. “Are you going to say your prayers?”

  “Of course.” He took her wrist, his grip tightening over the spot where she wore hi
s rosary beads.

  Rose jerked back, pulling on her horse and headed to the field.

  Marsor looked over at her. “So we meet again, little girl.”

  Rose said nothing, gritting her teeth.

  “I look forward to dethroning you in this event. Perhaps then you will learn your lesson, and stay home. Let the men handle the important things.”

  Rose still said nothing. Years of being derided as a woman knight had prepared her for his scorn. She’d counted on it, even.

  Marsor laughed a loud, brutish laugh. “Finally, a decent response from your sharp tongue; the silence is welcoming. If defeating you in jest is as easy as defeating you in the joust, I’ll win for sure.”

  The wall of her patience caved as her skill was called into question. “You’ll only manage to do so if you cheat!” Rose lifted her helmet. “You’ve already proven you’re only a bully.”

  “So say the losers!”

  “So say your victims!” Rose corrected. “I intend to bring them some semblance of justice.”

  The horn blared for the first round to go. Rose slapped down her visor and took off, pushing her horse for speed. She felt her palms sweating underneath her gloves as she stared down at the great, bulky figure who blocked out the rest of the world behind him.

  This was the man who had trampled her. The one who had nearly killed her over an inconvenience. The man who saw winning as more important than living. The man who had punished her guard for his loyalty to her.

  Marsor’s lance was heading for her, targeting her lower torso. Of course he would aim for the kill.

  As her horse thundered down the lane, her lance out strong, her shield tight, she took careful aim of her own. Rose tucked herself close to her horse, stabilizing her lance and allowing her speed to increase.

  Bracing her shield, she shifted her weight to her lance, aiming for his right side. It was the weaker side, despite what he might have wanted her to think. With Theo’s observation, she had insight into Marsor’s weakness, despite what he might have wanted. “This is for Roderick,” she muttered, forcing herself to shift any fear behind her.

  There was a resounding clash! as Rose’s lance met with Marsor’s shield; instantly, the pressure of her horse’s gallop pushed Rose’s lance behind the shield. Marsor cried out in pain, scrambling to avoid any injury.

  Rose easily pushed the glancing blow of Marsor’s lance aside she passed; with his wild, jerky movements, she didn’t have to turn around to know he slid off his horse.

  Cheers went up from the crowd as she reared in her horse and turned to see Marsor had fallen indeed, and he was gripping his left arm in pain.

  She slowed to a trot as she came up beside him. She lifted her helm off. “One more round, and you’ll be finished,” she told him.

  “Oh, I doubt that,” Marsor snarled. “You cheated.”

  “No, actually, I didn’t,” Rose said. “You might use brute force, but some of us still use our brains. If you have any, you might want to consider forfeiting now.” She spurred her horse forward, a sense of righteous happiness pulsating through her. She could hear him yelling at his squire and the various assistants available on his end.

  One more round, she thought. That was all. And then she didn’t have to worry about him anymore. Hopefully, he would be too humiliated to show up at all for the rest of the tournament.

  Theo came up to her and handed her a new lance. “Don’t aggravate him, Rose,” he warned her.

  “Why not?” Rose asked, suddenly angry at being cast as a villain despite her valiant efforts. “He was the one who trampled me—”

  “Please don’t make this about what happened—”

  “—and broke Roderick’s hand yesterday.”

  Shock darted across Theo’s face and left him speechless.

  Rose frowned at him. “You really didn’t think I wouldn’t find out, did you?” She had hoped to bite into his very soul, and Rose could see she had succeeded as he fumbled for words.

  “Rose—”

  “I have to go,” Rose smoothly interrupted. She pulled her helmet back on. She steadied her shield and her lance as much as she did her heart and her anger.

  She would deal with Theo and Roderick later, she decided. She had more important things to worry about.

  Marsor was in a rage. Even through the small opening of his helmet, Rose could feel his anger towards her. Good, she thought. Good.

  The trumpet sounded, and they were off once more.

  Rose saw no reason to adapt her strategy from the previous run; she took careful aim and sped forward.

  It was only at the last second she saw the gleam in his eye; his lance slipped several inches lower as she met him. “Stop!” she yelled, as the tip of his lance bore into her horse’s side.

  The horse reared up in pain and surprise.

  Rose felt her lance slip from her grip and she tumbled down from her saddle. Her shield arm gripped onto her reigns, but her horse, too surprised from the pain, was determined to run off. She felt her fingers slip a second before she rolled to the ground.

  Marsor just laughed as the audience collectively gasped.

  The trumpet sounded, declaring the end of the match.

  “You monster!” Sophia screamed as she ran out to the field, with Theo close on her heels. She picked up a rock from the ground and threw it at Marsor. “You disgusting beast!”

  Rose felt Theo dislodge her from her shield and grip her arm. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice desperate.

  “Are you going to tell me ‘I told you so?’”

  Theo helped her up, steadying her. She could feel him tremble slightly before she shook him off. “Theo,” she muttered. She lifted her visor. “I’m fine,” she told him. “Just upset.” She nodded to Sophia. “I’ll see to her; would you see to my horse, please?”

  Theo had no time to reply as she swept past him. Rose came over next to Sophia, who argued fiercely with Marsor.

  “It was an accident, I swear,” Marsor insisted, smugness written all over his face.

  “That was no accident, you despicable creature.”

  Rose stepped in front of her. “Sophia, ready my sword,” she ordered.

  “But—”

  “And a new horse, please.” Rose met her gaze, silently promising she would take care of the problem for everyone. “Now.”

  “Yes, Rose,” Sophia muttered, obviously unhappy. But she shuffled her feet and turned around, determined to give Rose’s sword an extra sharpening before handing it over to her leader.

  Rose turned her full attention onto the brute in front of her. “Sophia is right. You are despicable. To hurt an animal rather than face a fight fairly.”

  “I will not be denied my prize,” Marsor shot back.

  “Your prize is not worth the pain of an innocent party,” Rose spat. “I will see you on the field.”

  “We will,” Marsor agreed, a sinister gleam in his eye. “For a tiebreaker.”

  She said nothing as Marsor spit on the ground indignantly, before turning around and heading back to his post.

  Rose hurried over to Theo. “Is the horse okay?” she asked.

  “She’ll live,” he told her as he worked to hold a bandage over the wound. “It was a glancing blow on her shoulder muscles, though. I’m not sure she’ll be able to compete again.”

  “Use our winnings from the last round to buy her,” Rose told him. She reached over and stroked the horse on her nose. The large eyes looked at her in sadness, and Rose felt a wave of guilt pass over her, but she allowed herself only a moment to share in the horse’s pain. “We’ll have to see if Mary can help her.”

  “Here’s your sword, Rose,” Sophia said, slapping the newly-sharpened sword into Rose’s glove.

  “I know it was awful,” Rose told her. “And I know you would rather be the one to punish him for it. But I give you my word, I will see that he pays—in both blood and pride.”

  Sophia’s eyes blinked with tears, but she hung her head an
d said nothing.

  “Be careful,” Theo murmured as Rose stepped up into a new horse.

  “Just stick to your prayers,” Rose snarled. “Since they are apparently so effective.”

  At Theo’s hurt expression, she felt a wave of regret. But there was nothing to be done. She watched for a brief second as he turned on his heel and walked away.

  “He means well, Rose,” Sophia said quietly.

  “I don’t care,” she shot back. “This is not the time for romanticized notions that God will protect us from evil, when we just saw it in action.”

  She spurred the horse onward before Sophia could reply, or Rose could even see if she would dare to.

  The tiebreaker round would be unpleasant, Rose knew. The objective was to draw blood. Whoever bled would be declared the loser.

  Marsor was already the loser in her mind. He had broken his honor in order to gain more—such a thing would only bring about his end.

  The new horse was as docile as the previous one, which made Rose all the more angry. She watched from her post, her sword and shield ready, as Marsor pulled out his own weapons. The sheen of the sun on his blade struck her eyes.

  But not before she saw a strange, pink and green powder falling from the hilt.

  The trumpet sounded once more, and they were off. Rose lifted her sword high, getting ready to strike.

  Marsor charged toward her, meeting her fury with malice. His sword arched up high before he brought it down.

  “Augh!” Rose cried out vehemently as she swung out. She braced for the force of resistance.

  Her sword clashed loudly against Marsor’s, seconds before the metal of his sword broke.

  Rose did not have time to observe anything else as her horse sped past. She reared him in, hearing Marsor’s befuddled shouts, and turned around.

  Her sword had cut through Marsor’s, causing his blade to fall back on his leg. A large gash gushed blood freely as he sat on his horse, stunned and in pain.

  She saw Sophia cheering as a tear managed to escape her lashes; she saw Theo with her wounded horse, his expression a cross between relief and anger as he looked on Marsor’s stricken figure. He glanced back at her, and then looked to Marsor.