Hard Day's Knight

by Katie MacAlister

  I stood up again, intent on finding Walker, poking him once or twice in that wonderful chest of his, and asking how he dared keep something so important from me.

  Farrell was still shaking his head. “I doubt if it will do any good, not with Walker. Especially in the light of your defection.”

  I stopped at the door, flinching slightly as if the words themselves had struck a blow. Defection. No wonder Walker was so angry with me—he thought I had gone to join the woman who was bending all her energies to destroying him, repeating the pattern of his past.

  And why wouldn’t he think that? In his eyes, I had trodden the very same path she had. All the team probably thought the very same thing . . . that would account for Fenice’s coldness earlier, during the games. I cursed myself for not explaining my plan to Walker earlier, but deep down, I knew I hadn’t because he would never allow me to investigate. All I wanted was to be part of the team, to belong, really belong, and now I’d blown what I suspected was my only chance.

  In the midst of that horrible contemplation, Farrell spoke. “As a rule, I don’t take other men’s leavings, but if you find yourself without a bed for the night, you’re more than welcome to mine.”

  I spun around and walked quickly back to him. He must have thought I was going to belt him, because his head jerked back when I reached for him.

  “Underneath all that ego, there’s actually a nice guy,” I said, pressing my lips to his tanned cheek. “Thanks, but no thanks. If I can’t have Walker, I’ll just spend the rest of my life miserable and lonely, rattling around my mother’s big old house until the neighborhood starts to refer to me as Crazy Old Lady Marsh who talks to herself and lives with a gazillion cats.”

  Farrell raised an eyebrow and gave me a dashing smile. “I thought you didn’t like animals?”

  “Yeah, about the same way you don’t like Walker.” I smiled and started toward the door.

  “So I take it you’re not interested at all in having me tutor you at the quintain?”

  “Do I need tutoring?” I struck a pose next to the entrance, the very picture of a jouster so naturally talented, she didn’t need anything so mundane as instruction.

  “Hell, yes!”

  So much for my wunderkind status. I gave him half a smile as I opened the door. “Maybe later, after I superglue together the shattered remains of my life. Thanks for everything, Farrell. You really helped me out when I needed it.”

  Claude was lurking around outside the trailer, frantically trying to dab at the bits of blood welling up on the scratches on his hand, while at the same time amusing Moth with a frayed piece of rope. “You’re going to work the quintain now?” he asked, his voice all but weeping martyrdom.

  “No, that’s off. Moth! Bad kitty!” Moth flattened his ears, both at the scold and the fact that I rubbed his nose on Claude’s injured hand. “Bad! We do not injure those who take care of us!”

  “It’s all right,” Claude said lamely. “I’m kind of used to being—”

  “Abused?” I asked with a nod toward the trailer.

  “Taken for granted,” he suggested.

  “Really?” I gathered up Moth and his leash. “Then why do you put up with it? I’m sure there’s any number of people who’d welcome an experienced squire on their team.”

  Claude shrugged and rubbed the back of his hand with a less than pristine bit of tissue. “It’s part of my apprenticeship. I want to be trained by the best. Walker wasn’t accepting students, so he asked Farrell to take me on as a squire. Since he’s the second-best jouster around, he was the best choice.”

  “Walker asked Farrell to take you on?” I asked, astounded by that fact, then surprised that I was astounded. No one was turning out to be who I thought they were.

  What does that say about the wisdom of falling in love with a man you don’t really know? Evil Inner Pepper asked.

  I ignored her.

  “Oh, yes. They go way back.”

  “Well, poop, why didn’t anyone tell me it was all just a display?” I grumbled to myself as I nodded good-night to Claude before heading out into the soft purple haze of the falling evening.

  My talk with Farrell was anything but warm and fuzzy, but it left me feeling hopeful, if a bit naïve about what everyone else knew. I formulated a plan of attack as I walked quickly through the tent city, greeting people whom I’d come to know over the past ten days, turning down invitations to dinner, ale tasting, a singalong of medieval ditties, and the chance to see if I could French-kiss a jouster for five minutes straight without passing out (that offer came from the Norwegians). It struck me as I was wending my way in and out of the pools of light around each tent that I was strangely comfortable with these people, enjoying not only a sense of camaraderie, but something that made me feel like I was walking up the path to my mother’s house after a long journey.

  Ironic that in the middle of a different country, surrounded by people I’d just met, I felt a fragile sense of kinship. I just hoped I hadn’t destroyed the same with Walker and his team.

  “Hey, guys, wait up. Where are you going?”

  The entire group of Three Dog Knights—minus the head knight—was heading off toward the parking area. CJ and Butcher, bringing up the rear, stopped as I ran up with Moth. CJ waved Butcher on before turning toward me.

  “It’s Bliss’s birthday. We’re taking her to dinner at the steakhouse in town.”

  “Oh,” I said, a bit hurt that no one had mentioned the birthday dinner to me. “Why didn’t you tell me? I’ve got plans, but—”

  “It’s a secret. No one is supposed to know,” CJ said, her gaze avoiding mine. “We don’t want people to know that we’re all going off. For security reasons, you know.”

  “Oh. Security. Yeah, I understand.” It didn’t lessen the pain that no one had thought of clueing me in to the plans, though.

  Evidently something of what I was thinking must have shown, because CJ suddenly looked away. “I would have looked for you to join us, but I assumed you were busy with your new boss.”

  “She’s not my boss, but . . . er . . . I can’t come anyway. I’ve got some things to take care of here, first.”

  “He’s not here,” CJ said flatly, looking back at me with an unusually hard stare. “He went off God knows where, saying he wanted to be by himself.”

  “Who? Walker?”

  She was silent for a few moments before answering. “You messed things up royally, didn’t you? You hurt him, Pepper, really hurt him. I’m not saying you meant to—I know your intentions were good—but you did hurt him. You’re my cousin and all, but I have to say that I’m sorry I ever thought of bringing you with me.” I opened my mouth to protest, pain settling with a dull heat in my chest as she continued. “You’re not right for him, Pepper. I’ve told you that and told you that, but you wouldn’t listen. I know you both had a physical thing going on, but there’s more to a relationship than a good lay. And now you’ve crushed the life out of Walker, and that’s hurting the entire team. We took a vote, and we all think it would be better for everyone if you stayed away from him. From us.”

  I staggered backward a step, unable to believe I was hearing correctly, tears burning the backs of my eyes and throat. “I . . . I . . . ”

  “Leave him alone, Pepper. Just leave him alone!”

  “But I want to help. You know why I’m doing this—”

  She looked at me long and hard. “I thought I knew you, but after seeing what you did to Walker, I wonder if I really do.”

  Her eyes were shiny, as if she too were fighting tears. That wrung my heart even harder.

  “I was just trying to help,” I said simply.

  “Don’t you think you’ve done enough already? How much more of your help can the poor man take?”

  I stood there silently. What good would protesting do? My cousin, my own cousin, had decided my motives were less than honorable. I just stood there watching as she ran after the others, my happy “I belong” feeling shattering into
a thousand pieces and turning to dust at my feet.

  That was it. It was all over. Everything was ruined.

  A picture of Walker rose in my mind, his eyes dark with pain.

  “Like hell it is,” I snarled at Moth, spinning on my heel and marching back the way I’d just come. “I’m not giving up on him this easily. He wanted me to fight for what I wanted—well, I’m fighting!”

  A surprised group of minstrels agreed to watch Moth for me for an hour or so, two little girls belonging to the head singer descending upon the big cat with cries of delight and plans for dressing him up.

  I headed back out into the night, determined to find Veronica and have it out with her. Then I’d go find Walker and straighten him out on a thing or two, after which I would sit back and graciously allow CJ to beg my pardon.

  “But only after she grovels a lot,” I said to myself as I stepped into the circle of light outside Veronica’s tent.

  “Pepper? Are you looking for Vee?”

  Teri, one of the Palm Springs Jousting Guild members, looked up from where a small group of her teammates and a couple of Farrell’s men were barbecuing ribs. She wielded a barbecue brush as I answered.

  “Yeah, I am. Has she gone?”

  Teri nodded. “She said something about going off to a birthday dinner for another jouster. She should be back in a couple of hours.”

  “Oh, okay. No, thanks, it smells lovely, but I’ve got . . . uh . . . other arrangements. Night.”

  A birthday dinner for another jouster? Just how many of the forty-some-odd jousters present had a birthday on the same day as Bliss? I retraced my steps quickly, my thoughts no longer jumbled and confused. I could see it all, see everything with remarkable clarity. Shadows from the camp lights wavered and reached out like warning fingers as I jogged toward the low red building that housed Marley, Cassie, and the other horses of 3DK.

  Walker was off having his hissy fit somewhere alone. The rest of the team had gone off to celebrate Bliss’s birthday.

  But the horses are guarded by the teens Walker had hired, Evil Inner Pepper pointed out.

  “You’re right,” I said aloud, veering to the right toward the familiar cluster of tents. Veronica would never try to harm one of the horses, not with guards hanging around the barns watching for any unauthorized person. But the team’s equipment was another matter. There were any number of things that could be done to swords, saddles, and armor, all of which would guarantee the item to fail just when it was needed most.

  I found her just where I knew I would—in Walker’s tent, hunched over his Paso saddle, silver flashing as the blade of her dagger caught the thin beam of her pencil light.

  “Right,” I said, fumbling for a moment with the camp light I knew Walker kept on an overturned box. Bright bluish-white light flooded the tent. “You can just stop right there, Veronica. At the risk of sounding melodramatic, the jig’s up.”

  She stood up slowly and faced me, her face in its usual placid and smooth lines, not even the least shred of surprise or remorse evident. “Good evening, Pepper. I see you’ve changed out of your PSJG tunic. I must insist that as a representative of the guild, you wear it at all times while at the Faire. It’s a little thing, but it promotes team unity.”

  “Team unity?” I asked in a disbelieving snort. “You’re worried about team unity at a time like this?”

  “A team’s reputation should be guarded at all costs—”

  “Excuse me,” I interrupted with a gesture toward the wickedly sharp dagger she held in her hand. “But don’t you find it the slightest bit incongruous that you’re lecturing me about something like a team’s reputation when I caught you in the act of trying to sabotage Walker’s saddle? That is what you were doing, isn’t it?” I moved around her to the opposite side of the chair that held the big wooden saddle. The big leather girth had been twisted up, exposing the underside of it and the cinch strap that connected it to the saddle.

  I bent over the cinch strap, seeing nothing wrong with it until I angled the camp light.

  “Very clever,” I said as I set the lamp down. “No one would think of examining the underside of the cinch strap, not that high up. And you didn’t score the leather all the way through, so it won’t snap the first time the girth is tightened. Very, very clever, Veronica.”

  “I thought so,” she said, her manner complacent, almost bored, just as if I hadn’t found her in the process of trying to ruin Walker’s chances at the joust. I knew from experience what sort of pressure was put on the saddle when I took a blow, and had no doubt Walker’s saddle wouldn’t stand a chance after he took a couple of hard hits.

  “Your vengeance against Walker ends here. There will be no more revenge of any sort.” I held my hand out. “Dagger.”

  She looked at my hand curiously for a moment, a little smile turning the corners of her mouth up. “Surely you don’t expect me to just give you the dagger?”

  “Yes, I do. Give it to me.”

  She cocked her head on the side. “And if I do? What then?”

  “Then you swear to me that you will make no more attempts on Walker or his team. After you’ve written out a full confession, of course. If he has no more accidents during the competition, I won’t do anything. If he does, I’ll go to the joust marshals, the competition’s backers, and every media source I can find and tell them everything I know about you—how your fun with the lances injured Bos, how you hobbled Marley, and made certain Vandal’s shield would fail when he needed it. Honor is everything to these people, Veronica—you’ll be finished, your team will be ostracized, and you’ll be the laughingstock of the jousting circuit.”

  She said nothing for a moment, but I wasn’t deceived by the calm mask she wore. She had to be seething inside.

  “Very well,” she said on a sigh, placing the dagger handle first across my outstretched hand. “But you’re a fool if you think I’ve relied solely on a little fiddling with equipment. I have a much more powerful weapon in my arsenal against Walker and his team.”

  She strolled slowly toward the open doorway of the tent, the flap having been pushed back when I arrived.

  My fingers closed over the smooth mahogany handle of the dagger. Like everything else connected with Veronica, it was expensive, highly polished, and without even a hint of warmth. I knew she was baiting me, knew she wanted to have a killer parting shot, but I couldn’t help myself from asking: “And just what would that be?”

  Her chilly, controlled smile blossomed until it was reflected in her eyes. I shivered under the impact of so much joyous malice. “Why, you, of course. You’ve done more damage to Walker than I ever could have. I can only revenge myself on his body—you alone have the power to destroy his heart and soul.”

  She must have heard the wordless sound of protest I made because her smile got that much brighter. “I knew that first day I saw him look at you that you would be the one; you would provide me the means to revenge myself on him. I can’t tell you what a pleasure it’s been to watch you destroy him little by little.”

  “Why?” I asked, sick at heart, the hard wooden handle of the dagger biting into my palm. “Why do you hate him so much? What has he ever done to you?”

  She raised her eyebrows in earnest surprise. “I thought you knew—he destroyed the man I loved. I swore the day I learned that Klaus was nothing more than a helpless crippled shell of a man that Walker would pay. I have been patient, biding my time. I knew that sooner or later he would find something that mattered to him, and when he did, I would destroy it as he destroyed my love.” She did the little head-tip thing again as her eyes positively sparkled malice. “How ironic is it that in the end, you did the job for me? Good night, Pepper. Don’t stay up too late—tomorrow is a very big day for you.”

  “If you think I’m going to joust on your team—” I sputtered, stopping when she held up a hand.

  “You have to. There’s a little matter of the contract you signed.” Indignation, fury, frustration, the desire to
hurt her as she hurt Walker—it all roiled around in my stomach as she patted me on the cheek. “Didn’t you read the fine print? You really should have. It obligates you to joust under the Palm Springs banner unless you have a documented medical injury or are otherwise excused by the team leader—who is, of course, me. And since I see no reason why you should not joust, I shall hold you to the terms of the contract. I suggest you abide by them. Lawsuits can be so nasty.”

  She started to turn away, but I grabbed her arm, tussling a bit with my conscience. It won—I didn’t plant the dagger in her black heart. “You might think you have me by the short and curlies, but you can’t stop me from taking a header and breaking an arm or something guaranteed to keep me off a horse for a long, long time.”

  “You, the proponent for honor, do something so cowardly as to purposely inflict an injury on yourself?” She shook her head. “Someone else, perhaps, but not Saint Pepper.”

  I tried to laugh it off, but I knew she’d read me right. My laughter came out harsh as she sauntered out the door. “Maybe not, but don’t expect me to cover myself in any glory, Veronica. If I decide to compete, it’ll be for myself, not for your team.”

  She waved an uncaring hand and disappeared into the blackness of the night.

  I swore profoundly for a few minutes, calling myself every name I could think of. If I hadn’t taken it into my head to rescue Walker, I’d be happily sitting next to him drinking to Bliss’s birthday, not standing here feeling as if my heart had been torn out and stomped on by an enraged Marley.

  Why hadn’t I looked at that contract more closely? Why hadn’t I realized that I was being used by Veronica? Why didn’t I listen to Walker when he said to leave the situation with the sabotage alone?

  “Because the man needs me to take care of him,” I snapped out loud, pulling the girth back so I could see if the cinch strap could be salvaged, or if the whole thing would have to be replaced. The scoring Veronica had done on the underside bit too deeply into the leather to repair it, which meant the entire strap piece would have to be removed and a new one sewn on. Thank heaven there was a saddle maker at the Faire. If I got the saddle to him tonight, and promised him whatever money I could beg from family and friends, perhaps he’d get the saddle done by the morning. I flipped the dagger around and started sawing at the damaged leather, figuring I’d pull it off and save the saddler that much trouble. “I don’t know why I bother. No appreciates anything I do around here.”