Free Through The Leaded Glass by Judi Fennell Page B

now, at
least—hers.
    His armor shone in the sunlight as they took
their place along the log dividing the field. The blue plume on
Alex’s helmet matched the embroidered blanket on the horse’s back
and the background of his heraldic crest as his squire raised it in
salute.
    The crowd roared when Alex hefted his lance.
His horse snorted impatiently, its heavily muscled legs pawing the
ground as it shook its head… once… twice as adrenaline pulsed
throughout the arena. Alex reined him in, but the excitement was
palpable. The horse nickered and whipped its tail.
    Across the field came Farley’s horse’s
high-pitched whinny. Alex’s answered back. Even their horses didn’t
like each other. The crowd got in on the taunting with ear-piercing
whistles and insults. This was, obviously, a great rivalry on all
fronts.
    “ Oh, God.” Kate crossed her fingers
over her heart, but there was nothing pious about the pounding in
her chest. What if it all went horribly wrong?
    Tristan leaned over. “Don’t worry. Alex has
yet to lose. It’s vexed Farley to no end. Each year he swears he’ll
be victorious and each year he fails.”
    “ Does it bother him enough to want
to destroy Alex?”
    Tristan was silent for a moment. “He’s lost
enough gold over the years to warrant it. At least in his
mind.”
    “ So he could be the
thief?”
    “ Perhaps, but that doesn’t explain
how he knew where to find the ring. Even Nick and I, the two people
closest to Alex, don’t know where it’s kept.”
    Kate wanted to question him further, but at
that moment a trumpeter signaled the start. The horses jumped out,
their massive hooves pounding the ground as they thundered down the
lists. Kate sat on the edge of her bench, feet planted firmly on
the dais beneath her, feeling the vibrations from here. He had to
win. His son’s life—and her daughter’s future—depended on
it.
    Her gaze centered on Alex and his lance, her
nerves strung out as the horses sped toward each other. Fifty feet…
forty… twenty.
    And then they were within range, the lances’
tips blunted but still lethal at that speed. She leaned forward and
gasped as Farley’s came within striking distance. Alex swerved and
lunged, finding his mark and throwing Farley sideways, his lance
almost knocked from his grasp.
    The crowd roared. Blue ribbons in honor of the
House of Shelton rained from the stands and Kate took a breath.
Thank God that was over.
    But then they faced off again.
    “ Wait. What’s happening? Why are
they lining up again?” She leaned toward Tristan.
    “ That was merely the first of three
challenges.”
    Three. Kate groaned. Master Griff
hadn’t said which match-up would be the one where Alex was injured.
Suppose she hadn’t changed his future enough? She took a deep
breath, preparing for Round Two.
    Once again, both men were ready, lances poised
for the trumpet. At the signal, their horses strained forward. The
crowd cheered and the noise was deafening as the horses, their pace
furious, met in the middle once more. Farley’s lance plunged into
Alex’s shield, only to shatter like a toothpick.
    The crowd cheered again and Tristan whistled
shrilly in her ear. She wiggled a finger in it and saw Nick leave
the stands. She didn’t blame him; this tension was killing
her.
    Alex and Farley lined up again and the stands
quieted as the horses’ heavy breaths reverberated through the
arena.
    “ Come on, Alex,” she muttered,
gripping the edge of her seat, that cliché finally making
sense.
    “ Don’t worry,” Tristan whispered.
“Farley won’t win. The Traverses and Farleys have been at odds for
generations, and though Simon sees himself as the man to return the
glory to his family name, he never will. He allows his thirst for
vengeance to fuel his anger rather than improve his technique.
Until he learns to ignore his anger and attend to the match, he’ll
never beat Alex. It is the same with every meeting between them. At
court, at cards,