3
“Ready. Charge.”
Geraint’s booming voice sounded over the heaving breaths and heavy boots. The jousting area had been transformed into a blank green and muddy slate. The horses were stabled, and gone were the wooden rail barriers of the tilt. The lances were put away and the quintain targets were shoved off to the side. Out on the training ground of Tintagel Castle, the field was open for all-out warfare. With me at the head of the pack, all the squires charged each other with a battle cry.
Yes, even though I had been knighted a couple of weeks ago, I was still required to undertake the trials. Something or other about tradition and preparedness. I don’t know? I wasn’t paying attention when Geraint spoke. I rarely did.
To most of the women of Camelot, Geraint’s voice was silky and sm
