A/N: I know, I know ... "Finally!" you all say. I apologize; the combination of working and having my child out for the summer break is really wreaking havoc on my writing time! Here it is, though; I hope you enjoy it. And if you find anything wrong, just so you know, it is not my beta's fault. Nieriel Raina does a superlative job and ought to be canonized for her work. -- Le Rouret

Chapter 14. The Joust

In times past, when the Prince of Mirkwood had occasion to visit Lake Town, it was a jolly affair; he would come down with his watermen to collect the barrels, or betimes ride in after the hunt, and the merry folk of Esgaroth would greet him gladly, for he bore gifts of tales and laughter and song, and sometimes sweets for the children. And of course the son of the Elvenking was welcome anyway, for did he not succor the folk of the town when danger and famine threatened? Old graybeards and crones alike would wag their heads and chuckle over reminiscences of the coming of the Prince of Mirkwood, for then would the young Men seek his favor, and the maidens his ever-indifferent eye; and the Masters of Esgaroth were eager for his friendship, for it came easily to the Prince, far easier than to the Elvenking certainly; and all the Masters knew that to befriend Legolas son of Thranduil was to gain an ear to the throne of Mirkwood.

But it was not so when Legolas rode into Lake Town this time, Malbeach, clad in splendid scarlet, at his side. The guards at the palisade saluted them, but the few folk hanging round the gate drew back, eyes cautious, and he saw several women hurry into their houses, shutting and bolting their doors behind them. The streets were quiet, when ever before they had been full of bustling, busy people; there were no children out, and no old gaffers gossiping on the stoops; the inn was boarded up, and the merchants were not hawking. The lake was quiet enough, but there were no fishing boats out; only barges seen faintly in the distance, their black sails limp. There was no song nor speech nor sound of work, save from the smithy, which appeared to be very busy shoeing horses and repairing weaponry, which Legolas found ominous. When they arrived at Malbeach’s Hall, splendidly got up with gilt and paint on the columns and with a new stout door, a group of Men lounging on the steps scattered before the eyes of the Master, and his soldiers laughed contemptuously at their backs.

Malbeach offered rooms to the Green Knight and his retainers. “You will be comfortable here,” he said with a smile, his dark eyes glittering. “And your presence shall be an honor to my household.” Legolas looked on the verge of declining, for he did not wish to show favoritism during such strange times; but Malbeach insisted, looking deep into the Elf’s eyes, and Legolas reluctantly agreed.

Gimli and Kaimelas were very unhappy with the arrangement. The chambers given them were low-beamed and dingy, and the Hall was eerily quiet; there were not even any servants about to aid them in bringing their things in, and the stables were certainly not up to Tyarmayél’s exacting standards. “I do not like this place,” Kaimelas declared as he banged Legolas’ trunk open, and rummaged around angrily for his lord’s arming doublet. “And I do not like this fellow. I do not believe him when he says he knows not who drove the folk out of that village. I am sure he and his Men did it themselves.”

“There is no proof of that save our own suspicions,” said Gimli practically, buffing Legolas’ splendid green cuirass with a bit of lambskin. “Simply because a Man is unctuous and flattering does not mean he is a murderer and a – well, a murderer,” he finished a little weakly, glancing at Tamin, who was eagerly helping Kaimelas unpack. Tamin had not seen the Green Knight joust in several years and was very excited by the prospect, regardless of the circumstances; he scarcely attended his elders’ conversation, intent on laying out his Master’s clothes. “He may indeed be a murderer,” said Gimli, “and he strikes me as a liar too. What I dislike about him is his face.”

“Well he can hardly help how he looks, can he?” asked Bandobras, leaning casually against the high-posted bed and watching Tamin’s work with a critical eye; he yet felt his esquirely duties and did not think Tamin took as much care with Legolas’ clothes as he ought. “I think his face is fine, except for his eyes. Awful creepy-crawly, I got when I looked at him. Like staring into the face of a dead man.”

“Why ever did you agree to stay here, anyway, Legolas?” asked Gimli, setting the cuirass on the bed and fetching out the pauldrons. “It is unlike you to let a mere Man persuade you to something repugnant.”

“O I do not know, Gimli!” said Legolas wearily. He lay on the low straw tick, his limbs cast carelessly out, one arm over his face; he was very pale, and had dark circles under his bright gray eyes. “It seemed easier to consent, and I am too tired to argue.”

“Are you too tired to joust too, Master?” asked Tamin anxiously, pattering over to Legolas’ side and putting a small hand on his Master’s shoulder. “If you are too tired to joust then you should not joust, for if you joust and are too tired then perhaps one of the other jousters will knock you off of Hammer’s back and you will fall and dent your armor, and Gimli will be angry at you! O do not let Gimli be angry at you, Master; if you are too tired to joust then you should not joust at all, and then only Malbeach will be angry at you and he does not matter a lick, not compared to Gimli anyway.”

Bandobras suffered then a coughing-fit, to which Kaimelas politely attended with a drink of water from his flask. Legolas raised his arm from his face, and smiled at Tamin, his grey eyes twinkling.

“I am never too tired to joust, my Tamin!” he assured his esquire, squeezing the boy’s hand. “Why just you put my armor on, and place the lance in my hand, and all weariness shall fall from me, like water from the back of a swan.”

“Truly, Master?” asked Tamin, brightening. “O but I would like that very much, Master, to see you at the lists in your splendid armor upon Hammer, charging down the tilt all rattly-bangy, and then you place your coronel right in the center of the other fellow’s breast plate and whang! Down he goes with a crash!” He laughed delightfully, clapping his hands together and jumping up and down in his excitement. “O will you do that, then, Master? Will you joust and knock the other Men down? O please do say that you shall; for I shall be ever so gratified if you do! It is an honor for me to be your esquire anyway, Master, but should you win the tourney shall my station be elevated fourscore!”

“I will do my best, Little One,” promised Legolas with a smile, sitting up slowly and stretching. “O but I am weary! I shall sleep well to-night I warrant, after a joust and a feast.” He bounced a little on his pallet and made a face. “What a shame it is straw,” he said a little disconsolately.

“You are spoilt, your highness,” said Kaimelas with disapproval. “Why, where is the Elf who would go for a fortnight without sleep, and then take only cat-naps on the hard cold earth?”

“A cogent question!” said Gimli sternly, putting his fists on his hips and frowning at his friend. “Forty days did we travel from Rivendell to Caradhras, and nary a wink of sleep did I see you catch! Why, Samwise asked me when we gained Hollin if Elves slept at all; for he had been watching you closely, to see if you rested, and complained he never saw you with your eyes shut.”

“And he asked you?” asked Legolas, his eyes twinkling. “You, to whom I would not even pass the time of day? Why ever would Samwise do such a silly thing? For naïve he most certainly was, but our Samwise Gamgee was never silly.”

“No more he is now,” said Bandobras stoutly, pulling on his pipe. “Mayor of Hobbiton, he is, you know, my lord, and though I aver there’s silly folk who attain to that position, the charge of silliness can’t never be set on the likes of Samwise Gamgee!”

“I do like how my lord throws us all off his scent, however,” said Kaimelas sternly, shaking his head at the Green Knight. He went to where his lord sat, and boldly reached down, tipping the younger Elf’s face up to his own, and studying it keenly. Legolas submitted to this effrontery with amused acquiescence, smiling up at his valet. “I have never seen you so weary,” declared Kaimelas, his dark eyes troubled. “Even in war and dearth and famine and panic are you ever the picture of health. These dreams which haunt you so are draining the very life-blood of you; it is no wonder you accede to this vile Malbeach, for you are in no condition to argue! Grant me this boon, O Legolas son of Thranduil; make no resolution, agree to no pronouncement lest Gimli, Bandobras, or I vet it first! I trust not your judgment now, for you are fatigued unto folly, as is evidenced by our current sleeping-arrangements.”

“Your boon is granted,” said Legolas tiredly, and smothered a yawn with his fist, flopping down on his back onto the musty tick and stretching like a cat interrupted in the midst of a pleasant sunshiny nap. “Ah, oh! Dress me and quickly, my friends; pack me into my armor ere I swoon, for at least then I might through its strength prop myself up, and sleep between jousts.”

“You will have your joke, won’t you, my lord?” asked Bandobras dryly. “Here, Tamin, hold hard! That’s no way to handle the pauldrons. Look, lad; I’ll show you how it’s supposed to be done!”

“Yes, Bandobras,” said Tamin meekly enough, but though he allowed Bandobras to dress his Master he did not look sanguine about it.

O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O

The joust was to be held in a small field east of the city. To Tamin’s eyes it was a gimcrack affair, with short palisades and naught but a rickety stand for the important folk; there were no seats for the rest of the people in the town, which was just as well; few people turned out to watch, and those Men looked a close-mouthed, shifty-eyed lot anyway. There were a few pennants snapping from the flag poles in the stiff breeze, and crows were wheeling about the stand, and perching upon the canopy underneath which sat Malbeach and his Men. There were few ladies about, which Tamin thought inauspicious; for when did the ladies not love to watch the Men bash themselves up for the benefit of some feminine token? The tilt was nothing more than a long rope barrier in the middle of the list, which was alternately dusty and muddy, and much churned up by the hooves of horses. Tamin and Bandobras went back out the gate to where the Green Knight’s destrier awaited, feeling very flat. “They should of dragged that there arena,” muttered Bandobras discontentedly. “Amatoor, I call it.”

“It is not much like the fields and lists in Osgiliath and Minas Tirith, is it, Bandobras?” asked Tamin. “It is so small and rickety-looking! Why those stands look as though a stiff breeze might upset them. No wonder no one wants to come out to watch! I should be embarrassed if I were of Esgaroth. Is not Lord Faramir’s tourney ground splendid? I declare it is nicer than King Elessar’s though I suppose I ought not to say such a thing for it sounds rude and I must never be rude, especially to my Master’s friends. But I had expected better lists of these northern Men, I must say, Bandobras.”

“You ought to have seen the lists in Dale, when it was at its greatest, ere the dragon came,” said Kaimelas, working Hammer’s girth straps tight, much to the stallion’s irritation. “A great shingled stadium, with high stands for all, and a splendid royal box; the pennants bloomed like flowers from the flag-poles, and the knights were clad in marvelous kit, shining and brave.”

“Did you joust well at Dale, Kaimelas?” asked Tamin, holding Hammer’s head still. “Hush, Hammer!” he admonished the big black beast, stroking the velvety nose. “Be a good fellow, do; you must bear my Master to victory you know, and if you balk or let him be thrown there will be no carrots for you tonight!” Hammer snorted and blew, but Kaimelas tightened the cinch, and the destrier, resigned, dropped his head.

“I have never jousted,” laughed Kaimelas. “Bless me; your Master is the only Elf I have ever known to pick up the lance for fun and not war! A silly game we thought it, and beneath our dignity; though I do not deny it is rather exciting to watch, now that I have been forced into observation.”

“I do not think it beneath our dignity at all,” said Tamin, feeling offended; then espying a shining figure approach from the city he hopped excitedly on his toes and exclaimed: “Look, look! It is my Master! O does he not look splendid in his green armor? Now Kaimelas, you cannot say to me he does not look dignified like so!”

Kaimelas turned and watched his lord approach; to be sure the armor was impressive, with its dragon’s head-helm and high plume, and spreading wings on the reinforcing plates; the claws and spikes and cunningly designed scales gleamed and the red gems set as eyes in the frogsmouth glared, the teeth in the bevor snarled. Beside the Green Knight trotted Gimli Lord of Aglarond, a worried look on his face. “What is it, Lord Gimli?” asked Kaimelas; he could see his lord’s eyes, grey and weary, behind the pierced eyeslit, restlessly looking to and fro.

“There are but two other jousters,” said Gimli; he took a small piece of lambskin from his pocket and buffed a finger-mark off Legolas’ cuisse. “This will be a rout. Legolas will run straight over them.”

“How odd!” exclaimed Bandobras. “Why would Malbeach invite a knight like him to embarrass his own Men? That don’t make much sense at all.”

“It is gratifying to know you will win, Master,” said Tamin; “but it will be disappointing to not have much competition. That is not what I call a proper tilt at all.”

“Well, help me up anyway, my Tamin,” said Legolas; his voice sounded hollow and tinny in the frogsmouth. “I have conceded to this debacle; I might as well see it through!”

They helped him mount, and then heard the trumpets; Gimli said: “All right, then, Legolas! Be kind to your armor and your armorer; I do not have any of my smithy here!”

“I will do my best to prevent injury to the armor,” laughed Legolas, turning Hammer; the great black destrier snorted and pawed, eager to charge the tilt. “And if I break my collar-bone again I give you full permission to poke fun at me. Cheer me on, will you? I do fear me I shall not be very popular this eve, after I have trampled upon my rivals!”

They followed the Green Knight into the palisade. There were a few Men standing at the ropes, watching them suspiciously; they did not wave any pennants, nor seem to favor one knight over the other; it looked as though they did not even care about the outcome, and Legolas wondered why they were there at all. The two knights who were to face Legolas did look like poor competition indeed; one was upon a rail-thin nag, in spotty armor, though the man looked stout and hale enough, and lifted his chin proudly; the other man was completely obscured by his helm and armor, and his surcoat was faded and torn, though his lance looked new. His horse was of Dale, and equal to Hammer in height, though he was rather thin, and his hips jutted. The steed rolled his eyes nervously when the people started to cheer, shifting on his great dirty hooves, the feathering tangled and muddy.

Legolas joined the other knights, smiling and nodding; but the two Men only glared at him from the corners of their eyes, and turned away from his greeting. With an inward sigh Legolas rode along side the Men as they approached the box, wishing he had refused this spurious honor, and wondering what possible good he could do at the lists. “Perhaps I might gain the peoples’ confidence,” he thought; “perhaps then I might prod about, and find answers here ere I gain my Lord Father’s Hall!” They reined in before the stands and looked up at the box. Malbeach stood there among his soldiers and various courtiers, smiling his dead oily smile, his beautiful jeweled doublet flashing and sparkling in the late afternoon sunlight. Legolas shivered. “He is like a jackal,” he thought; “an acceptable-looking beast with a loathsome character.” All the people in the stands began to chant: “Malbeach! Malbeach! Greatest Master of the Long Lake! Malbeach for Esgaroth!” He smiled and waved and let them cry out, then when the ruckus had died down he spread his arms and called:

“O knights, present your arms to my lady, the beautiful Renna of Dale!”

“Dale!” muttered Gimli in surprise to Kaimelas, Bandobras, and Tamin, where they stood by the edge of the palisade. “I didn’t know the Master’s lady was of Dale!”

A finely dressed woman stepped forward to Malbeach’s side. She was of medium height, her dark hair covered with an embroidered veil held in place by a thin gold circlet. Her gown was red as summer roses, and gorgeously bedizened with gem and thread and bead, and the swell of her bosom as it rose from the lace of her bodice was pale as cream. Round her small waist was a kirtle of green, upon which was fastened a bunch of white flowers, and a ring flashed on her pretty little hand. Her face was very beautiful, and her eyes dark like her husband’s; but vibrant and sparkling, as though she shared some secret jest. Her pink mouth dimpled into a smile as Malbeach brought her forward, and she beamed warmly down upon the people.

“Pretty, ain’t she?” said Bandobras thoughtfully. “Nicely turned out, too. I like to see fine clothes on a pretty woman.”

Tamin only sniffed, thinking that she was not a patch on either Andunië or Dúrfinwen, or of course his own lady mother. “Though I own she might be as pretty as Lady Éowyn,” he thought; “but of course she is younger. I wonder what Hísimë will look like when she is grown?”

The few women present courtesied to their lady, and the Men cheered; but it was a raucous cheer, and some threw out cat-calls; her cheeks pinked and she dropped her glorious eyes, her smile fading; Malbeach laughed. “Come forward to my lady, O knights!” he called, giving his wife a cruel look, and then the knights presented themselves to her, and she forced herself to smile graciously upon them.

“Doring of Esgaroth, O Blue Knight!” she called; her voice was low but clear and pure, like the chiming of bells, and the crowd stilled; the Men leant forward, eager to hear her voice. “Run straight and strong to the tilt, and show yourself brave!” The knight in the tattered blue surcoat inclined his head to her, his eyes flashing behind his eyeslits. Lady Renna turned to the second knight. “Berded of Dale, O Yellow Knight! Meet your opponents with gallantry and skill, and represent your lands well!” The Yellow Knight’s face was fervent and avid, and he stared upon the lady with glazed eyes. Both knights inclined their lances to her, but then she turned upon the Green Knight, and her face lit up; her sweet red mouth curved into a smile, and her eyes shone. “O Legolas Prince of Mirkwood!” she said, sounding breathless; the folk in the stands were very still, attending to her; Malbeach watched with an evil smirk on his face. Renna lay one white hand upon her bosom, which fluttered beneath her fingers, and her lips trembled. “How honored and humbled we are by your presence! O do incline your lance to me, O Green Knight of the far southern lands, that I might bestow upon you my favor!”

There was a low hiss in the stands then, and Doring of Esgaroth and Berded of Dale looked murderous; Legolas went very still, and the tip of his lance wavered a little.

“What is he doing?” hissed Kaimelas. “Has he been befuddled by this silly woman’s flattery?”

“I do not know,” muttered Gimli; “I do not like how he is sitting though.” For Legolas was stiff and bent upon Hammer’s back, like an old man with rheumatism; his destrier swung his great black head round, touching one of Legolas’ sabatons with his nose; still the Green Knight spoke not nor moved, but only sat with his helmed face turned up, his unseen eyes gazing upon the Lady of Esgaroth.

The crowd was deathly silent, and Malbeach and his lady looked hard at Legolas; Malbeach’s eyes were as ever dead and unfeeling, but Renna’s burned with an eager flame. She gestured to him, her lovely face pleading; and slowly, haltingly, Legolas urged Hammer forward. He tipped his lance; the dragon’s head coronel rested upon the rail by Renna’s hand, and with a smile she took her scarf, intending to tie it to the tip of the lance. But then she espied the grimacing face of the coronel, and started back, her face white; Malbeach too saw the dragon leering at him, and stifled an exclamation, his smile disappearing. He drew Renna back roughly and shoved her aside so that she fell into her seat, and after struggling a moment regained his unctuous smile.

“I do beg your royal pardon, O Prince Legolas of Mirkwood,” he said; his voice was as silky as ever. “We do not allow images of the dragon in our town, in deference to the memories of those who were by him slain. We will allow you to joust as the Green Knight, but I am desolated to inform you that I cannot permit you to be my lady’s champion this eve.”

There was a silence after this, and slowly Legolas straightened in his saddle; he lifted his lance so that the coronel smiled to the heavens. “I apologize then, O Malbeach Master of Esgaroth,” he said; his voice sounded strange, thick and gluey even in the tinny confines of his helm. “I would not dare put your lady in such a position. But I do tell you, O Lady Renna of Dale, that I shall joust for you and for your favor; for to win accolades from you shall be the pinnacle of my stay here in your city, and fortunate is the man whose hand is joined to yours!”

“Hmph,” said Bandobras. “I guess he can flatter as well as them!”

“Hush!” said Gimli; his eyes were worried. “Something is not right. I do not think Legolas should joust.”

“Well it is too late now,” said Kaimelas grimly, watching the knights separate and go to the ends of the list. “There is the herald; you had best take your place, Lord Gimli.”

“As you wish,” said Gimli, hefting the extra lances onto his shoulder. “But cease with the ‘lords’ already, will you, Kaimelas? I think we know each other well enough to dispense with my title.”

“As you wish it, then, Gloinion!” laughed Kaimelas, and Gimli shot him a wry look as stumped toward the tilt.

The herald with his flag walked out to the list, and called: “First to the tilt shall be Doring of Esgaroth and Legolas of Mirkwood!” There were a few scattered cheers, but for the most part the folk in the stands and at the ropes only stood and watched, their eyes hard. The two knights took their places, Legolas tall and straight upon his mighty Hammer, shining in the late afternoon sun; facing him was Doring in his shabby blue; his eyes were flashing angrily, and he gripped his lance with a white-knuckled hand. By Doring’s side was a thin, underfed-looking youth with lank hair, holding his lances; Gimli stood for Legolas and glared at the other fellow, silently rebuking him for his poor turn-out. Both knights nodded to the herald, who dropped his flag; then with a bellow Hammer charged.

Doring’s steed though Hammer’s equal in height was sadly outclassed by the other destrier’s aggression, and balked; Doring cursed loudly and dug his spurs into his horse’s flanks, drawing blood. The horse with a squeal lurched forward, but Hammer met him past the middle mark, and the Blue Knight scarcely had time to lower his lance ere Legolas’ coronel struck him in the escutcheon. With a cry he fell back upon the cruppers, his lance falling ineffectively in the dirt.

“One point,” said Kaimelas satisfied, but Tamin said indignantly: “O what a cruel thing to do to his poor horse! He ought not be allowed to use such sharp spurs!” For blood was flowing from the horse’s flanks, and he rolled his eyes, shifting nervously about while his master righted himself. At last the Blue Knight declared himself ready, and the herald dropped the flag.

Fearing the spurs, the Blue Knight’s horse fled down the tilt, giving Doring sufficient time to set his lance; however Legolas’ keen eyes and better balance were Doring’s undoing, and this time the dragons-head lance shattered square in the charnel, throwing the Man to the ground. His own lance met Legolas’ gardbrace, and snapped, and Legolas twisted hard to keep his seat. “Two points,” said Kaimelas.

“That must’ve hurt but good,” said Bandobras, pointing; the Green Knight was rotating his shoulder cautiously. “Hope he didn’t go of popping it out again. Mighty hard to lift a lance, you know, Tamin, when you’ve gone and popped your shoulder.”

“It is a good thing Gimli thought to bring so many lances,” said Kaimelas dryly. “One might almost have supposed he planned to have the Green Knight joust!”

“More likely it was a ruse,” said Bandobras, eyes twinkling. “Him and Legolas throwing us off the scent, like. Them two! Thick as thieves and just as sneaky!”

“Quite possibly,” agreed Kaimelas, and they attended again to the joust.

The Blue Knight was very angry, and shouting incoherently to his squire and horse; the two flinched back from him, their eyes afraid. At last he mounted and set his lance, and nodded to the herald, and when the flag dropped the two destriers surged forward.

Doring’s fall had bent his fauld, and he sat crooked upon his destrier’s back, so that the Green Knight’s coronel struck him in the polder-mitten, and with a twist and a scream he lost his seat, his arm broken; his destrier panicked, and though Doring’s sabaton was still in the stirrup he bolted toward the stands, dragging his master behind him. There was a shout and a rush, and many Men came forward to stop the horse; he trampled a few of them in his fear, and reared up, his great hooves flying; one struck a man in the head and he went down. Then to the distress of the Green Knight and his retainers, one of the guards came forward with a spear, and stabbed the destrier in the neck; it squealed and fell thrashing, taking several Men with him, and Doring was obscured by the beast’s twisting, struggling body. Some madness seemed to come over the Men then, and they all drew swords and knives and set about furiously stabbing and slashing at the poor beast, shouting and laughing, and all in the stands shouted and laughed too, as though it were some great sport. Legolas’ cry of dismay was drowned out in the fracas, and Kaimelas put his hands over Tamin’s horrified eyes.

“Stop, stop!” cried Legolas in alarm, and made to rush over to stop the madness; but Gimli took Hammer’s reins.

“No!” he said in a low voice; “this is not your place; you have no authority here. Keep quiet! Or they might set on you too. Look! Even that vile Malbeach approves!”

Sure enough the Master of Esgaroth was laughing and calling out encouragement to the Men, and the horse’s squeals of agony weakened and were overwhelmed by the cheers of the crowd. When one of the horse’s flailing hooves caught a man and downed him the crowd only cheered the louder. But Legolas said:

“Look! Lady Renna is not amenable; how horrible for her!”

Sure enough the Lady of Esgaroth sat back in her seat, her hands covering her face; at last Malbeach, seeing his lady missed the fun, dragged her forward and forced her hands away from her eyes, making her look. With tears rolling down her pale cheeks did the lady watch the horse in its death-throes, her brown eyes filled with horrified pity, and her ladies’ maids shrank back and turned away.

At last with an awful gurgle the horse died, and the Men who were yet standing dragged it off with a glad shout. Doring of Esgaroth’s foot was still affixed to the stirrup, and he had been crushed by his horse’s agony; they could hear him weakly calling for aid as he was dragged along, but the Men only laughed at him. Those felled by the destrier crawled away if they could; the others were hauled off by soldiers, kicked and spat upon. The great patch of blood on the churned earth was steaming and dark. Gimli grimaced and said:

“We are in over our heads, I fear, my friend.”

“May I make some jest about your height now, Gimli?” asked Legolas with forced lightness, but his voice trembled with anger. “I have never seen the Men of Esgaroth act so! How vile; how ghastly! A good thing it is there are few women to watch! O how I pity the poor Lady of Esgaroth, that her contemptible husband allows such a debacle!” Indeed Lady Renna sat huddled in her seat, her eyes frightened; every now and again Malbeach looked down at her, and gave her an evil smile, from which she cringed. Then he said something to her, his dead eyes glittering, and she swallowed heavily, and sat back up, smoothing her bodice with trembling hands.

Malbeach stood, and held out his hands to the crowd; all stilled. “Well,” he said, his voice jolly; “it appears as though Doring of Esgaroth has forfeited!”

Everyone burst out laughing, and someone began a chant which spread through the crowd: “Berded! Berded! The Yellow Knight for Esgaroth’s Lady!” The Yellow Knight approached the tilt, his eyes blazing with fury, and he looked upon Renna leering contemptuously, and she turned away, her face scarlet. Berded of Dale approached the tilt; the small esquire at his side trotting to keep up, dragging the lances behind him. He dropped one, and Berded turned to him, and gave him a knock about his head with his heavily gauntleted hands. The boy fell to the ground, and everyone laughed again; he got up, rubbing his head, and Legolas saw when he pulled his hand away that the boy was bleeding.

“I am determined to beat him too,” said Legolas, his voice furious. “That tyrant, striking a child so young! O Gimli, deal with me as severely as you like, if I do not make the Yellow Knight to bleed even more than his poor esquire!”

“If you do not hit him then I shall,” said Gimli. “And I will not use a lance with a coronel either; I shall take my axe to him!”

“And who charged me with caution a moment ago?” asked Legolas; Gimli could see him smiling grimly through the pierced bevor. “This list is full of base and violent Men, Gimli; let us make a pact, you and I: that when our business is concluded and the mystery wound up, we come back to it, we two, and burn it to the ground!”

“I’ll bring the tinder-box,” grinned Gimli, handing him a lance. “And you the extra pitch.”

“Done!” said Legolas, taking the lance and setting it, and nodding to the herald. The flag dropped, and crying to Hammer, the Green Knight flew down the tilt.

The Yellow Knight, though clad only in chain mail, was a far superior jouster to the Blue; his coronel struck Legolas’ helm, and Legolas’ lance splintered upon the escutcheon. “Blast!” muttered Gimli, but Legolas merely shook it off; though he turned to the Yellow Knight when the Man spoke to him. As he rode back to his side of the tilt Gimli asked: “What did Berded say to you, Legolas?”

“It was very strange,” said Legolas; he sounded bewildered. “He said: ‘Do you not think to supplant me; the whore’s favor is mine tonight!’ I do not dispute the presence of whores in Esgaroth, the poor things; but Gimli, I saw none by the tavern, which is where they are wont to hawk their spurious wares. You do not think he was speaking of the lady, do you? For if he is of Dale as is she I am certain he expected to champion her this eve.”

“I trust me he would not be so base,” said Gimli, looking up at the box; Renna sat forward, her lovely eyes fixed upon Legolas; she looked anxious and pleased. “But I had also not thought the Men of Esgaroth capable of such equine cruelty, so perhaps he is not a knight after all, but a mere rake with a lance.”

“Lady or harlot, one should not speak of women so,” said Legolas firmly. “For his esquire, and the honor of women with no honor of their own, I shall take him down, Gimli!”

“Good!” said Gimli. “You need two more points at least. Try to knock that sneer off his pocky face, please.”

“I shall do my best, my friend,” said Legolas politely, and setting his lance he nodded to the herald.

Hammer, though this was his second joust, was a stronger beast than the Yellow Knight’s poor rouncey, and his bellow as he charged the tilt made the smaller horse shy. Berded shouted and dug his spurs into his steed’s flanks, and they surged forward. Both lances splintered, Berded’s upon Legolas’ escutcheon; but Legolas’ coronel had come to rest in the center of Berded’s charnel, throwing him. He landed heavily with a rattle, and the poor nag bolted; some Men attempted to stop him, but having tasted freedom it outstripped them, and fled in a cloud of dust into the bare wilderness to the east. Legolas urged Hammer up to the Yellow Knight, who lay still upon his back in the dust; he raised his visor and looked down coolly at the Man, who panted, his eyes wild.

“Well, O Berded of Dale, Yellow Knight?” he said. “Will you rise to finish me? For we have in our possession several horses full willing to bear you, if you are bold enough to meet me again at the tilt. Or shall we finish our contest at the barriers, you and I? My sword is long and sharp, and I have a lady’s honor to defend.”

“Rot in Hell, puling aberration!” snarled Berded; his face was filled with fury but he did not move; even his fingers could not twitch, and he grimaced awfully. “It was mine – mine, I tell you!” His pale eyes rolled round till he could see Men running toward him, and he went terribly white. “Kill me!” he begged, looking with terror upon the Green Knight. “I beg of you, Prince of Elves, slay me and do so quickly!”

“Why must I slay you?” asked Legolas, startled. “This is but a tourney; we have not challenged each other to the death!”

“Slay me and quickly!” pleaded Berded. “Before they get here – slay me – I beg of you, please, Elf, slay me!”

“I cannot do such a thing,” said Legolas, sliding off Hammer’s back and kneeling by the Yellow Knight’s side. “Here,” he said kindly, laying his hand on Berded’s chest. “I fear you may have broken something – “

“My back, you damned fool!” cried Berded. “Slay me – “

The Men reached them, rushing round in the dust and calling out: “He’s down! Ha! Ha! Pick him up, men! Take him off!”

“No! No!” cried Berded desperately, but the Men roughly pulled him by his arms and carried him away, laughing and jeering; Legolas could hear the Yellow Knight’s desperate cries over the cheers of the crowd. Gimli trotted up beside him and said:

“Well, I suppose you have won, Legolas.”

“What a bitter victory!” said Legolas, dismayed. He turned to the stands, to the box where sat Malbeach and his lady; Malbeach was smiling, his dead black eyes glittering like onyx; beside him Renna and her ladies’ maids were laughing and clapping, and the lady’s eyes sparkled as she smiled upon the Green Knight, looking very happy. Legolas stared; he felt very weak, and his hands dropped to his sides. There was a rushing in his ears, as though he were about to swoon; he shook himself and said: “I am weary, Gimli – weary of this game. Get me out of this armor. I shall not joust again.”

Gimli made to protest, but espying the wretched look in Legolas’ eyes said nothing, and walked with his friend out of the lists.