In Search of a King Ch. 7

The heat from wearing the armor in the early afternoon sun was almost to the
point of removing the plate armor. The sounds of the jousting from the arena
could be heard over any other sounds that were being made. Giraud sat
sweltering on the stool outside his tent hearing the thundering beat of the
horses' hooves from the arena. At least two matches had already taken place
and the third was now being fought. He hoped he would not have to wait much
longer because the heat was about unbearable

He had lost helmet immediately upon arriving at the tent. The helmet had
been slightly damaged at the last tournament from an errant lance and now
two weeks later, he could still feel the dent where it had been crushed on
his left cheek. The armorer was to have repaired it, but he felt the edge of
the metal just brush against his cheek enough to cause an irritation. Trent
had carried off his helmet behind the tent to pound out the dent instead of
wasting another few gold pieces at the armorer's anvil. They always had
their own anvil, just in case of such an event. Twice Trent had brought it
for him to try on to see if the dent was away from his cheek, and was on his
third attempt to get it right. There was a spare helmet, but this helmet
proved to be blessed. He had never lost a tournament while wearing it.

A horse of the duchess's livery rode near. He had watched the herald as it
went to the tents of other knights when they were announced to joust. But
this time is stopped in front of him. "Sir Giraud of Fianna, prepare
yourself to joust!"

Giraud stood at the invitation, inclined his head to the herald, and
replied, "With pleasure."

The sounds of Trent's hammering stopped. He hurried around the tent with
helmet in hand. "I hope this will do." Then hurried off before Giraud even
noticed.

"It will have to," Giraud replied. He took the helmet from Trent, trying it
on for one last time. The metal was not touching his face, so he felt
relieved. The last thing he needed was to be distracted from a poor job from
the armorer's hammer.

Trent arrived with Knightwind. Using the stool, Giraud mounted Knightwind
with ease. At least neither of them had to worry about carrying the lances
to the arena now, as they had at the last tournament. Fortunately, the
duchess's tournament allowed the knights to store their lances at the arena.
Trent waited for Giraud to get situated before leading to the arena.

"Are you ready?" Trent asked.

"Yes," Giraud answered.

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