William readjusted his large shield against his side. Doug raised his sword again, but this time as a signal to the crowd to cheer louder. They did so in earnest by stomping, yelling and whistling with even greater fervor. I, however, was focused on William. It was hard to read body language under a layer of steel, but with his shield sagging and his sword jutting at a strange angle, he clearly looked uncomfortable.
Doug moved toward him and William suddenly charged, moving faster than he had before. William snuck a hit in on Doug before fending off what would have been the final blow. The crowd was on its feet now, including me. It was so close.
The ref stopped play again and William paced in circles, his gauntleted fist opening and closing at his side, his helmet turning as if he was shaking his head inside there. Doug turned to the crowd, raising his hand as if to get the crowd to shout louder. A shudder passed through William’s whole body.
When the flag between them was lifted, William lunged almost too soon and started chopping away at Doug randomly. Gone was the precise, staid style of fighting that had worn Doug down during the first bout. Now William’s energy almost seemed chaotic and Doug fended him off easily.
Until William’s sword landed on him once again…at the juncture of his breastplate and helmet. We all jumped up and down, screaming. William had gotten his last hit.
And yeah, I was probably happier about it than I should have been. Everyone was cheering so loudly that no one heard the ref’s whistle until both contenders raised their visors. It took a few minutes, but the crowd quieted down.
Something was wrong. The ref was not declaring William the winner.
“Due to another yellow card violation—a strike against the neck piece—I hereby declare the Knight of Black and Silver disqualified. Red and Gold, you are the winner of this duel.”
The group of people behind me—William’s friends and family—were questioning each other in tight voices. I turned around to look at them. Mia was watching William carefully, her pretty face creased in a frown. Alex was complaining loudly, and Adam and Heath had their heads together, conversing. Others were in a similar state of confusion. Doug’s friends, of course, were ecstatic, and Caitlyn and Ann, who sat on either side of me, cheered. “He won! Your man won!”
Doug raised his visor to reveal the grim smile on his face. He appeared supremely satisfied. A chant went up. “Sir Douglas! Sir Douglas!” Inexplicably, my stomach bunched in a knot. I couldn’t help but feel bad for William. He had fought such a good fight with quick and powerful hits.
Within minutes, there was a crowd around Doug, and William took off in the direction of the camping site where the sleeping tents were set up. As a group, we had camped the night before in preparation for the weekend’s events. Beyond watching the duels, we non-fighters also had work to do. After lunch, there would be a yearly planning meeting for our club, traditionally held at the beginning of every spring.
Two more knights filed into the ring for a practice duel. I let out a deep breath. Might as well get this over with. Perhaps he wouldn’t take it too hard on the tail end of his “great victory.”
My two closest friends in our clan, Caitlyn and Ann, walked with me. Ann chatted amiably about the duel while Caitlyn called and waved to people along the way, sometimes peeling off to go hug or greet someone.
I, on the other hand, was quiet, already mentally practicing my breakup dialogue.
“Are you happy that your man won?” Ann asked suddenly.
I sent her a look out of the corner of my eye. In the past, Ann had been quite frank in telling me she was not a fan of Doug and that he “didn’t deserve” me. I took a few steps in silence before I answered. “Sure.”
I didn’t meet her gaze, afraid she might figure things out. I hadn’t yet shared with either of them my waning interest in Doug.
“It’s too bad,” she said in her mellifluous Somali accent that I so enjoyed listening to. “About Sir William. He’s a kind man.”
“He is…” I shrugged. “But every battle needs a winner and a loser.” I frowned. That had sounded a lot better in my head than it did out loud. William was no loser.
Caitlyn fell into step beside us again, calming her usual boisterous tendencies in order to catch up on our conversation.
Ann stole another glance at me and sucked in her cheeks, emphasizing her already exquisite bone structure. “He has a thing for you.”
“Doug? Of course he does,” Caitlyn said.
My eyebrows shot up, and though I knew Ann had meant William, I stayed silent, hoping Caitlyn would steer the conversation in a different direction. She didn’t get the chance.