The crowd went silent when she picked her favorite. Duncan moved his horse closer to the stand and took her boon. He captured her fingers and leaned over them to brush his lips across their soft tips. For a moment, there was no one else but them.
She mouthed the words “good luck” before he let her fingers go.
She heard the click of Cassy’s camera from behind her.
“That was romantic,” Cassy told her once the procession was finished.
“For all the good it will do me.”
“Lighten up. Remember… ‘For pleasure and fun, or fantasy or whatever.’” Cassy who had sworn off alcohol only hours before, reached for the jeweled goblet, which held more wine.
An announcer bellowed over the crowd, telling them of the first event.
The men had replaced their armor with more comfortable clothing, designed to add agility to their feats of skill. The first of which was a challenge to see who could spear a target as close to the center as possible, while their horse was in full gallop.
The crowd had picked their favorite horsemen.
Cheers and boos came and went with every passing of the lance.
The drunk from the night before was sloppy in his saddle and barely reached the target at all.
Because many had seen his actions the night before, he was booed continually, except by those who were obviously his friends.
When it was Fin’s turn, he grandstanded for the crowd by tossing his spear and catching it prior to lunging it at the target. He came close to its mark, 80
Binding Vows
drawing approval from the spectators.
Fin nodded to his brother in a challenge to beat him. Laughingly, Duncan pulled his mount forward and darted a glance at Tara who stood intently watching from the stands. His horse lunged forward with no outward sign from Duncan to do so. His aim was close, but Fin had beaten him by a hair.
So it went. There were similar games involving spearing rings from tall poles and other moving targets. A grand display was made of the mock battles. Swords clashed against swords, sparking cheers from the spectators.
A showman on horseback gave the audience a wonderful display of dancing his horse. He pranced, bowed and trotted to the tune played by the small band on the sidelines.
While the horse danced, Gwen made her way to Cassy and Tara’s side. “How are you two holding up?” she asked as she made her approach.
In the light of day, Tara felt more comfortable around Gwen. She looked harmless in her soft blue gown and tinkling bracelets.
“I didn’t think it would be this much fun,” Tara admitted, embarrassed at her earlier behavior toward the woman. “I think I owe you an apology.”
“For what?”
“I think I could have been more gracious this weekend.”
“Nonsense.” Gwen smiled.
The crowd roared signaling the end of the dancing horse and an intermission in the games.
Tara looked past Gwen to see if she could find Duncan. She hadn’t caught a glimpse of him since he left the field. “Looking for your man?” Gwen asked, breaking Tara’s train of thought.
“He isn’t ‘my man.’”
Gwen’s laugh was unsettling. “How about you, Cassy, do you have a favorite?”
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“So many men...” She smiled and waved at a brown-haired hunk as she spoke, “…only one of me.”
“Are you ready for your part when the tournament is over, Tara? Do you have any questions?” Gwen circled in front of them both, cutting off their view of the stands.
“It’s pretty straight forward,” Tara said. “I don’t have to kiss anyone do I?”
“Only if you want to, my dear. By the looks of some of the players, it might not be such a hardship.”
“If Duncan wins, you’ll kiss him,” Cassy chimed in. “And if Fin wins, he’ll kiss you to piss off his brother.”
“It looks like you have the situation under control. I’ll leave you to your food and drink.” Gwen turned to leave, then stopped herself. “Oh, Tara, one more thing. When the handfasting is done, make sure you hold your partners hands like this.” She took Tara’s hands and placed them in hers. “Make sure you’re looking at him, so the pictures look real.”
Tara felt one of Gwen’s rings scratch her palm when she let go. Tara pulled her hand away and saw a few drops of blood come to the surface of her skin.
“Oh, dear, I’m so sorry.” Gwen pulled a handkerchief out of her bag. “Let me get that.” She patted her palm with the cloth. “Let me see.” Gwen turned her palm up and made a show of inspecting the damage.
“It’s fine, really.” Uncomfortable, Tara pulled at her hand firmly in Gwen’s grasp. On the second tug Gwen released her and tucked the bloody cloth away. She muttered another apology then left.