Wisps of smoke emerged and sounds of sizzling and popping came with every drop that hit the sacred symbol.
Smiling in triumph, Grainna continued.
****
The first two challengers faced each other on the jousting field. Tara sat in apprehension as she watched them prepare to do battle. It was all in fun, mind racking, but fun. She was certain the lances they held were made of some flimsy material, which fell apart easily. But still she worried about the outcome. She couldn’t help wondering if one of these men would be the victor.
When the horses took off in a run, Tara watched as the lances merely glazed the sides of their shields.
Only a game, she told herself. Breathing easier, she watched the first few matches and let her body relax.
It was when Fin had his turn, her interest in the 86
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game was renewed. He faced the better of the first few players. Tara wasn’t surprised when Fin toppled the first rider with hardly a swipe and with only one pass.
Because Duncan was Tara’s favored rider, his matches were held toward the end of the tournament. He took the arena much like his younger brother had, but with more accuracy and swiftness.
A powerhouse on the field, he took no chances and toppled his challengers one after another. Some saw him as a formidable foe and chose to dodge his blows, thus forfeiting their game.
Tara watched as the numbers of players for her hand dwindled to only three—Sir Duncan, Sir Finlay and Sir Michael.
Could she go through a mock ceremony with anyone other than Duncan? She would of course, but it was hard to imagine. She hated to think of pretending with anyone else but him.
“It won’t be long now.” Cassy handed Tara a glass filled with wine. “Here, I think you’re going to need this.”
“I can’t. I’m too nervous.”
“What’s to worry about? Duncan will win. And if one of the others does at least they’re cute.”
Tara winced when she saw Fin take a hard blow to his arm holding his lance. “How can you be so sure Duncan will come out on top?”
“He has to. Besides, he likes you and wants it more than the others. Just look how he plucked them off earlier, like apples from a tree. Have some faith.” Cassy took a large drink from the wine she had poured for Tara.
The crowd stood when the next pass ended with Fin off his horse. He brushed away the dirt and favored his sword arm. He bowed and shook hands with Michael then led his mount to the side.
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Michael and his horse were given time to rest before the final match with Duncan.
Tara wanted desperately to find Duncan and wish him luck and to issue a meaningless threat of great bodily harm if he didn’t win. But getting away this close to the end wasn’t possible.
Minutes ticked by which felt like hours. fair patrons came and went during the intermission, taking pictures, asking questions. Nerves kept her from saying much to the people who stopped in.
When her fingers started to tingle, she forced herself to sit down and slow her breathing. A lot of good she would do if she passed out before the match.
Tara’s mind drifted from her body. The feeling of being on the outside looking in was overwhelming.
She closed her eyes and thought of what Duncan had said earlier. If you fear anything, call on me.
What did she have to fear? Why did he say that?
She closed her eyes and brought a picture of him to her mind. Trust me. His words echoed. A few deep breaths and concentrating on his final words helped slow her speeding pulse.
When the trumpets sounded for the final round Tara felt more relaxed.
More assured.
****
Duncan sensed Tara’s presence in his head. From across the hordes of people he fixed her with a stare. Even from his distance, he could see her eyes were closed.
He knew she was troubled, felt her reaching out to him with her mind. He called on a power, which remained dormant until his return home. He closed his eyes and pushed words of trust toward her.
He couldn’t tell if he was successful in his efforts, but when he opened his eyes he caught Tara’s returning his stare.
Duncan led Durk to his place along the rope 88
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separating the riders His nostrils flared in anticipation of his flight. Skilled, it took only the slightest touch of Duncan’s knees to command his horse to lunge.
The horse didn’t flinch when Duncan’s lance hit his opponent.
****
Michael took the blow with rage. He wasn’t happy with Gwen’s orders to throw the match. He saw Tara’s ribbon clenched in Duncan’s hand and scowled. It was suppose to be him at the altar. Him in her bed!
The next pass gave Michael the triumph he wanted. His lance caught and nearly toppled Duncan. He glanced up at the maiden who held her hand to her mouth, worry etched in her features.