Chapter 40: Chapter 40: Count Adhemar returns

Geoffrey POV ***

 

The next morning, they went forth to the tournament ground to register Sir Ulrich von Lichtenstein in the events.

 

“A black phoenix?” the master-of-arms cried out in surprise as he read the patent in his hand. “Is it Sir Ulrich von Lichtenstein you stand for?”

 

“Yes,” said Geoffrey, shooting his chest out.

 

“No need to introduce Sir Ulrich,” said the master-of-arms, handing over the patents back to Geoffrey. “A more noble knight we haven’t seen. In fact, I’ve got my money on him, my wife cannot find this out. How is his health?”

 

“Physically or emotionally?” asked Geoffrey.

 

The master-of-arms was debating within himself which he intended to inquire about when a knight with deep sunken eyes, curly dark auburn hair, and a jet-black outfit came up to him, ignoring the queue behind Geoffrey.

 

“You can leave, eh?” he quickly said to Chaucer.

 

“Jousting,” the man in jet black said. “The name is Adhemar, Count Adhemar.”

 

Geoffrey felt his legs freeze where he stood. He turned around and sure enough, it was William’s arch rival standing before him in flesh and bones.

 

There was a murmur when the name “Count Adhemar” was mentioned. It was almost as though everyone in the queue knew a terrible gossip about him that Geoffrey did not. So, Geoffrey pulled a squire aside and plowed him for as much information as he could.

 

William's POV ***

 

William was dressed in his armor, Roland and Wat were dressed in fine tunics of pale green; A black phoenix embroidered on the front of their green clothes.

 

“I should have done it myself,” Roland grumbled when the cloth kept pressing his now his much larger arm and chest muscles.

 

“You've been getting bigger, all those hours spent sparring with William makes me think your aiming for a knighthood yourself,” Wat teased.

 

“You should stop eating and drinking so much or you'll get fat,” Roland snapped. “We're squires of the famous Sir Ulrich von Liechtenstein now, have a bit more dignity.”

 

"Well excuse me your majesty, I didn't know we had royalty among the ranks of us humble squires," mocked Wat with a chuckle.

 

"Will you two cut it out," whispered William.

 

Afterwards, they set out of the tavern and William mounted his horse. Wat and Roland bore the green flags bearing the black phoenix.

 

“You should stay with Kate,” William said, when he saw Ralph making to join them. “We can’t leave her all by herself, and it isn’t okay for her to walk in the fiery sun.”

 

Ralph nodded and went back in.

 

“I should get me a woman,” said Wat, grudgingly. “That way, I’ll never get to do anything.”

 

The streets of Salpool were paved with stones and wide enough for seven horses to ride side by side without touching each other. But it always became too small whenever it was the championship going on. Knights from far and near would come over to represent their houses, others to impress and get sworn to a house.

 

There’d first be a parade, where all these competitors would march out on horses flanked by their lieges bearing their flags and the flag of the houses they represented.

 

William looked around, overwhelmed by the flux of emotions clashing and thrashing about inside of him. His eyes caught a boy of about eight standing on a romp; he himself had stood on one to watch knights parade over the bridge as a kid.

 

“News! News!!” Geoffrey cried out, hurrying up to William’s side. “Count Adhemar is here! He’s entered.”

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William tightened his grip over the reins and gritted his teeth. “Yes!” he said, fisting the air. He led his horse slowly away from the parade, eager to hear more of the news.

 

“He must have gotten tired of the war,” said Roland.

 

“No,” Geoffrey snapped. “He is a mad man! I don’t think he got tired of fighting the war. The Messers were at war with the Forhemians, you know this, do you not?”

 

“Yes,” William answered.

 

“When he forced them to the last fort, he refused to accept their surrender, and neither did he attack them outright. He laid siege to the city and allowed it go to waste. They say the land is cursed and no one can live there anymore.”

 

“The Messers are cursed,” said Wat, “they live anywhere. But who called him back then?”

 

“The council of Kings petitioned the king of Messer to take him away,” said Geoffrey, “His Free Company was disbanded as well. Their crimes went on from reveling the nights and desecrating days, robbing, murdering—”

 

“Committing the oldest sins in the newest ways,” a cold, low voice finished.

 

The company of the black phoenix turned about and sure enough, it was Count Adhemar himself riding on a black horse. He bumped Geoffrey away with his horse and even William and to stand his ground to keep the dark knight off.

 

“Sir Ulrich,” said Count Adhemar in a high, frosty voice. “At last, we have the chance to face each other again.”

 

They continued in to the jousting arena, heading for the stand where the nobles sat. All around them is the loud din of more than ten thousand people screaming and yelling their voices out.

 

“And as I promised you before,” said William, “You will see me from the flat of your back.”

 

Count Adhemar burst into a cackle. “Let the past die,” he said, “You’ve done well in my absence, though. On the field and off, I’m told. Winning trophies, horses, women…”

 

“Do you put them in that order?” asked William.

 

The Count shrugged. “With a few… exceptions,” he said, before lifting his eyes to the stands.

 

Prince Edward who had fought against William as Sir Thomas Colville was there, only he was now King of Borish. Beside him was his wife, the newly crown Queen Joan of Desbury, other high-ranking nobles, lord Grove of Makinburg and his daughter, lady Jocelyn.

 

And that was when it dawned on William that she was the exception Count Adhemar had referred to.

 

“Beautiful,” Count Adhemar said, sucking his teeth. “A real thoroughbred trophy, don’t you think?”

 

“You speak of Lady Jocelyn like she is a target,” said William, the blood in his veins boiling red hot.

 

“Oh?” Count Adhemar exclaimed. “Isn’t she?”

 

“No, she is the arrow,” said William, returning his eyes to Lady Jocelyn in the stand. Just then their eyes met and she flashed him a beautiful smile that caused his heart to flutter.

 

“I have entered negotiations with her father,” Count Adhemar continued in that coldblooded cool of his. “I aim to make her my wife. She will be saddled and placed upon my mantle.” He turned and held William’s eyes in his. “Arrow or target, it makes no difference to me; I will have her.”

 

There was something frightening about the way Count Adhemar spoke, something immensely scary despite the fact that his voice never left a whisper and the cool smile never became a frown. But that was what even made it more frightening; the lazy energy in his voice. He wasn’t trying to convince William; it was as though the deal was done and there was absolutely nothing William could do about it.

 

“Armor vincit omnia, William,” said Geoffrey, coming up at William’s side. Love conquers all.”

 

William scoffed. “Does it? Well, hatred doesn’t do a bad job either.”

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