Adhemar's POV ***

 

Count Adhemar sat with his eyes set on the rough looking peasant clad in armor. Everything about the fellow was old, except of course, the man in the armor and the fire in his eyes.

 

The pursuivant raised the green flag with white horse up and the crowd tensed. The moment the flag fell, both knights galloped towards each other with the speed of a gathering storm, lances aimed at forty-five degree tilt.

 

Their crash was glorious, loud, rare. He could feel the tension rising in him as the warriors shattered lances into each other.

 

Count Adhemar expected him to fall, that brat called Sir Ulrich. Instead, the lad swayed backwards like a drunk on a horse and straightened up again, hurrying to grab a second lance for the next pass.

 

He was a young man from what Count Adhemar could tell, maybe eighteen at the most, but he had the courage men twice the age lacked.

 

"And that worries me," he thought.

 

He watched Sir Ulrich turn the horse around, lance in hand and eyes on the opponent. Count Adhemar scowled; the fellow didn’t look at all as though he’d just been struck by a lance. Most knights would have a hard time sitting on their horse after a hit of that magnitude, but this fellow here was a monster of a fighter.

 

Once the lance was in Sir Ulrich’s hand, he spun his horse around and charged down the list again.

 

Count Adhemar clenched his fist with such force that his hands turned white.

 

The second clash was as intense as the first. Lances cracking like a thousand fireworks on a festive night.

 

“This Sir Colville has perfect technique, I've never seen or heard of him before.” said Count Adhemar to Germaine beside him.

 

“Nor I,” the herald answered. “But this Lichtenstein… his technique, rudimentary, style is… nonexistent. Still, he’s fearless.”

 

Jocelyn's head jerk up surprised at that comment.

 

“Fearless?” She blurted beside the count. “How so?”

 

Count Adhemar growled internally as he took a quick side glance at her. “The slit in the visor is narrow, but splinters can penetrate it. Most knights raise their chins at the last instant. You lose sight of your opponent, but protect your eyes from flying pieces of wood. Sir Ulrich doesn’t.”

 

“He keeps his eyes on his target. A true and courageous knight,” Jocelyn mumbled clearly impressed.

 

“Stupid is what he is,” said Count Adhemar, scoffing.

 

The jousting knights should be ready for the third pass, however, one could see them both riding towards the center for a discussion of some sort. They raised their visors up and talked, but it was impossible for the count to hear what they were discussing from such distance and over the excited chatter of the crowd.

 

“Sir Colville looks hurt,” said Count Adhemar, “it should be an easy finish for Sir Ulrich. I fancy he’ll even claim that fine white horse for himself.”

 

Both knights returned to their squires and grabbed their lances, ready for the decisive pass.

 

Count Adhemar sat up in his seat, careful not to look too interested. Yet, he longed to see if Sir Colville’s finesse would not conquer Lichtenstein’s lack of it.

 

“They’re slowing down!” Germaine remarked.

 

A furious scowl spread itself over Count Adhemar’s features. Indeed, the two men who had started riding at each other at blistering pace slowed down and raised their lances up instead of striking each other.

 

“It’s a draw,” said Germaine, “But Sir Colville is injured, it’d have been an easy win."

 

“Why didn’t he finish him?” said Count Adhemar, scoffing in disbelief.

 

“He shows mercy,” said Jocelyn with a gentle smile making it obvious to Count Adhemar she was thoroughly intrigued by this Sir Ulrich.

 

The blood in the count's veins boiled like red lava from an active volcano. He bit his lower lips and forced himself to take in deep breaths.

 

“Ulrich shows mercy?” said the count, “then he shows his weakness… I assure you that is all mercy is.”

 

Sir Thomas Colville’s herald took a white cloth, went to the joust scoreboard, and covered his master’s shield with the cloth.

 

“Sir Colville withdrew,” said Germaine, “Ulrich advances. Looks like you two will be meeting this time sir.”

 

“It sure looks like it,” said Count Adhemar, in a low growl.