The Gorgon (17 page)

Startled by the unexpected
appearance, she took a step away and openly studied the man. For a moment, no
one spoke, and then the knight reached up to raise his visor. A pale,
pock-marked face and small blue eyes gazed back at her intensely. When he
smiled, it was only to reveal large, slightly green teeth.

"My lady," he said, his
voice medium-pitched. "My name is Sir Breck Kerry. I am competing in the
first round and was hoping if you have not yet given your favor to anyone, that
you would graciously consider my solicitation."

Summer did not like any aspect of
the pale-faced, foul-breathed knight. Not his manners, nor his looks, nor the
strangely annoying quality to his speaking tone. When she cleared her throat in
a firm attempt to discourage him, Edward suddenly appeared at his daughter's
side, his round face taut.

"The lady is not dispensing
favors, Sir Breck," he said with more fortitude that Summer had heard in a
long while. "Choose another."

Breck, however, was undeterred
and dipped his head gallantly in the baron's direction. "My lord," he
greeted. "My brother informed me this morn that the delightful creature
seated next to you at yesterday's melee was your only daughter. Since I was
unaware the du Bonne brothers had a sister, I was merely attempting to
introduce myself."

Edward eyed the aggressive
knight; he knew him to be the man who had broken Stephan's wrist last year and
in spite of his callous attitude in matters pertaining to his children, found
himself leaping to Summer's defense....

"They do indeed," he
replied coldly. "If you will excuse us, sir knight, the joust is about to
commence."

Breck continued to eye Summer,
then Genisa when the woman took a position beside her sister-in-law and
clutched her protectively. His small blue eyes raked Genisa suggestively before
returning to Summer.

"I understand your father's
concern, Lady Summer. Even so, my intentions are purely honorable,” he said
with mock sincerity. "Have you indeed given your favor this day?"

Before anyone could stop her,
Summer stepped forward in a fit of disgust. "I have given my f-favor to
Sir Bose," she said. "Now, please go. I have no desire to speak with
you."

The smile on Breck's lips faded
with unnatural swiftness. He continued to stare at her, digesting the flaw she
had been unashamed to display with her insolent tongue. Instantly, his
excitement and lust banked as he pondered her defect; God's Blood, what a
tragedy her condition exhibited for, certainly, she was terribly beautiful. But
with her flagrant stammer, she was as worthless as a three-legged cow and his
disappointment settled.

His discouragement, however, was
of little matter; the fact remained that the lady and Bose were attracted to
one another, so much so that she had given him her favor. And the fact that
Breck had sworn to avenge his failing in the melee against Bose merely fed his
determination to sway her opinion against the mighty knight.

"I... I apologize if I have
offended you, my lady," he said as genuinely as he was able. "I had
no idea that you and Sir Bose were... well, that is to say, I am distressed to
learn that you have allowed a knight of such questionable character to bear
your favor."

Summer's gaze was unnaturally
piercing. "Sir Bose is a perfect knight and I am proud to have him b-bear
my favor."

Breck gave her his best anxious
expression. "But he is a... God's Blood, dare I say it? His reputation
toward the fairer sex is certainly not the most solid."

Summer cocked an eyebrow, angered
and shaken with the knight's implication. Good Lord, did everyone know of the
lies regarding Bose's past? Cheeks flushed, she tried her best not to shout her
defensive reply.

"And the rumors you refer to
are nothing but a pack of malicious f-fabrications," she said, her voice
acquiring an odd quiver. "Sir Bose never killed his wife. She died in
childbirth."

Breck's eyes widened with mock concern.
"And he told you this version of the truth, my lady?"

"He did. And you will
believe him w-without question."

Breck blinked innocently, as if
digesting her forceful statement. Clearing his throat delicately, in a fashion
suggesting he was shocked by the entire conversation, he shook his head feebly.

"My lady, did it not occur
to you that he would parlay any convenient tale so that you would disbelieve
the reality of his darker reputation? Surely you realize that a smitten man
will do or say anything to gain your trust," his gaze moved to Edward,
round and short and perspiring under the bright morning sun. "My lord, you
must protect your daughter from de Moray's evil. I fear that...."

Breck's words were abruptly cut
short by the powerful thunder of hooves, startling his warhorse and causing the
animal to dance about nervously. Summer was vaguely aware of a red-and white
banner before her as the brilliant sunlight reflected off portions of plate
armor, nearly blinding her.

Amidst the red and white and bolts
of silver, however, she caught a glimpse of black and white. The very next she
realized, Breck Kerry lay on the ground and Bose was already dismounted,
stalking the downed knight.

The tension in the air was
unmistakable as the crowd in the lodges jockeyed for a better position from
which to watch the extra-curricular event. Summer was aware that Stephan had
placed himself between his sister and the green and yellow knight, his powerful
warhorse snorting and foaming. She heard Genisa gasp as Bose reached down and
grasped Breck by the neck, heaving the man to his feet in one effortless
motion.

Summer was truly shocked by the
swiftness of the entire event, but her surprise had not robbed her of her
senses. Grasping her skirts, she dashed to the edge of the platform where Bose
was preparing to deal Breck a harsh lesson.

"Bose!" she cried
softly. "What are you d-doing?"

At the sound of her sweet, shaken
voice, Bose's helmed head immediately turned in her direction. With Breck still
clutched in one massive gauntlet, he raised his visor with the other.

"I am preparing to punish
him for speaking to you," he said frankly. "Did he offend you, my
lady? Was his manner bold and intolerable?"

Gazing into his piercing black
eyes, Summer's astonishment faded as a tremendous sense of flattery took hold.
Aye, Stephan and Ian and Lance had punished her tormenters and old Kermit the
tutor had been quite free with his cane when he deciphered a slanderous insult
toward his young charge. But her thanks for their shielding behavior had never
mounted to the warm, fluid excitement she was feeling with Bose's chivalry.

She could not help the smile that
creased her lips. "Nay, my lord, he was not b-bold or aggressive toward
me. Truly, there is no need to punish him, though I thank you deeply for your
concern."

Bose paused a moment, his face
unreadable, before releasing Breck completely. The knight stumbled back,
rubbing at his neck and glaring daggers at the massive warrior at least a head
taller than himself.

"Damn you, de Moray,"
he hissed. "Your foolish heroics were uncalled for. There is no law
against my speaking to the lady."

Planted between his sister and
the two scuffling knights, Stephan cocked an eyebrow as he joined the
conversation. "Nay, Kerry, there is no law against you speaking with my
sister. But I will only tell you one time; stay clear of her. If I ever see you
speaking or even so much as looking in her direction, you'll most certainly not
like my reaction."

Breck's gaze was even as he
beheld Stephan with small blue eyes. "Yet you would allow de Moray, a
known murderer, to bear your sister's favor. Most strange, Sir Stephan."

Although Bose did not react,
Stephan drew in a long, intolerant breath. "If I must make a choice
between the two of you, I suppose I would rather see Sir Bose bear my sister's
favor," unwilling to say anymore, he reined his charger in the opposite
direction and motioned to the heralds at the corner of the field. "I
believe you gentle knights are scheduled to joust. Mayhap you can settle your
dispute with the aid of a lance in your grip."

Bose immediately turned away from
Breck and regained his steed, mounting effortlessly. Breck, still shaking off
the shock of having been unseated quite brutally, moved slowly to his snorting
mount and cuffed the horse when it snapped at him. Emitting a yelp when his
unprotected wrist made contact with the strip of armor secured to the horse's
face, he grumbled and grunted angrily as he mounted his charger.

As the two opposing knights
fumbled with their destriers and equipment, Stephan returned his attention
briefly to his sister. Summer smiled faintly at her eldest brother.

"Thank you for your
intervention," she said softly, fumbling for an apology. "And I...I
am sorry for my hateful words, Stephan. I never meant to b-be...."

He put up a quieting hand,
matching her smile in spite of the anger and arguing that had taken place
earlier. No amount of fury and quarreling could dampen the true sibling
affection they held for one another and Stephan knew that in spite of his bewilderment
regarding de Moray, Summer would most likely have a permanent champion for the
rest of the tournament.

"I know, sweetheart,"
he said, touching her pink cheek. "Do not fret; we shall discuss it
later," turning to his wife, he quickly motioned her over. "Come
here, love, and give me a kiss. I have got to vacate the field before I am
mistakenly gored by an eager competitor."

Obediently, Genisa rushed to her
husband and kissed him sensually on the lips. His eyes closed at her tender
touch and, smiling, he kissed her again. Gently caressing her silken face for a
brief, distracted moment, he nonetheless cast a final glance at Bose before
slamming his visor shut and spurring his charger across the field in a rush of
flying dirt and grass.

Summer and Genisa watched Stephan
depart in proud silence, their smiles fading as Breck Kerry gruffly rode past,
rubbing at his shoulder and adjusting his helm. As Genisa sighed dreamily and
returned to her cushioned seat, Summer turned her gaze to the last of the trio
that had yet to depart.

Bose sat atop his charger,
fumbling with the neck of his helm. Summer continued to stand at the edge of
the platform, her heart beating wildly against her ribs as she watched him. His
visor was up and he was looking at her, his face emotionless, until he finally
appeared satisfied with whatever his thick fingers had been toying with.

Summer's breathing quickened as
the charcoal gray charger moved slowly to the edge of the lodge, the beast
amazingly calm and showing little of the agitation it had displayed earlier.
Bose's thigh grazed the edge of the platform, by Summer's feet, as his rugged
features gazed up at her intently.

"Are you certain he did not
insult you?" he asked quietly, with genuine concern. "Breck Kerry is
not one of the more chivalrous knights on the circuit."

She shook her head. "'Tis
sweet of you to ask, b-but again I say he did not," her gentle expression
faded somewhat. "However, he said some terrible things about you. I was
going to punish him myself before you rode to my aid."

Bose cracked a smile, a charming
lopsided gesture. "Your vengeance on my behalf will be unnecessary, my
lady. Beating him in the joust will be punishment enough."

She matched his smile, lifting an
arrogant eyebrow. "You promised to b-beat them all, my lord. I will hold
you to that vow."

"And I shall," again,
the piercing notes of the silver trumpet filled the brisk sea air and Bose
turned in the direction of the heralds, obviously impatient to get on with the
game. With a faint nod, as if acknowledging the silent gazes fixed upon him, he
returned his attention to Summer one last time. "I am afraid my time has
come. I do hope you enjoy the joust far more than the melee."

Summer tore her eyes away from
him long enough to note that Breck had taken up station on the opposite side of
the field, retrieving his lance and shield from a young squire. "So do
I," she replied, once again fixing him with her golden gaze. "Take
great care, my lord. I should not like it if my favor b-brought bad fortune upon
you."

Bose suddenly dug into the fold
between his breastplate and armor, drawing forth a familiar small white
kerchief. Bringing it to his nostrils, he inhaled deeply, closing his eyes at
the blissful evocations of the rose scent. With a smile, he opened his gaze to
Summer's beautiful face. Kissing the white linen, he returned it to its safe,
armored haven.

"Although I should like to
have the final encouragement Stephan obtained, I will refrain from
asking," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "Your brother did not
want to me to speak with you before the joust and were I to steal a kiss as
well, I would undoubtedly incur his wrath. Ian's and Lance's, too, I
suspect."

A faint pink mottled Summer's
cheeks as her gaze lingered on her strong champion for a moment. Averting her
eyes, for she knew he was required at the far side of the field to obtain his
lance, she turned for her cushioned chair.

"B-But you would not incur
mine," she said softly.