Only a Squire’s Fantasy

Chapter 2

After getting the armor on, Wat and Roland quickly led the horse towards the arena, Amelia on the horse. She quickly checked the armor, and looked at Roland. With a bit of mud on her face, it was hard to tell she was a woman.

“Visor!” Roland hissed, and she quickly reached a hand up to put it down.

“How’s this sound?” She asked, using a voice she’d used to impersonate people she didn’t like when she was young.

Roland and Wat both stopped and looked back at her, startled.

“You…sound like a bloody man, Amelia…” Roland said with a glance back at her before they started to move towards the arena again.

As soon as they reached it, Amelia took a breath to calm her nerves just as the announcer began to call out the standings.

Wat handed her the lance, and she took another deep breath. The wood felt smooth in her hand as she did, and she remembered when she was Sir Adman’s jousting target. Keep the arm rigid and firm, then shove forward at the last instant. Lift your chin – wait, scratch that, don’t lift your chin…you loose sight of your opponent.

Have no fear, she’d been told. Yeah, well, she was a woman about to bet her life on a single jousting match, pretending to be a dead person. Oh, what was she going to do?

The announcer’s voice derailed her train of thought and she looked up, a bit startled, as she listened.

“The score stands at three lances to none in favor of Sir Adman. Lord Phillip of Aragon, stand ye ready?”

The knight on the other end of the field lifted his lance in answer, and Amelia swallowed. Oh, what had she gotten herself into this time?

The announcer nodded, then turned to look at Amelia. “Sir Adman, sand ye ready?”

All Amelia had to do was lift her lance as well in answer, and the announcer nodded.

“Ready?” She heard Wat ask.

“Of course.” She replied hotly. “I have tilted against Sir Adman many times, you know.”

“Yeah, in practicing as his target. You were never allowed to strike him.” Wat replied.

Amelia sent him a heated glare, though he didn’t see it. “Badger me not with details!”

“The landscape!” Roland shot back at her. “Stay on the horse! He needs three points to beat you, so a broken lance won’t win it for him. He has to knock you off the horse.”

“I know how to score, Roland!” She replied in her man voice, and Roland looked up at her.

“Blimey, you sounded like bloody Adman just then!” Wat said, his face slightly pale.

Amelia didn’t seem to be listening. “…I’ve waited my whole life for this moment…” She whispered.

“You’ve waited your whole life to have Sir Adman shite himself to death?” Wat asked, looking at her in slight disgust.

Amelia could hear people around the stadium chanting Sir Adman’s name. She wished they were cheering hers.

She watched as the flagman stood, looking between the two, then flipped it up.

Lord Phillip’s horse took off, and Amelia clapped the horse’s side with the heel of his steel boots. Her horse took off, Roland and Wat running after it for a moment before they stopped to watch.

Amelia could see the opposing horse coming closer, and closer, and closer. She swallowed, remembering the tips.

Keep the arm firm and bent at the elbow…always keep your eye on the opponent…shove forward at the last second…!

“Get it in the cradle. Get it in the cradle-”

“Get it in the cradle!” She heard Roland and Wat say after her.

She listened to them, and shoved the lance forward at the last second. However, the Lord Phillip knew where to strike.

While her lance hit him in the chest, his hit her in the head.

After she was sure she had impacted, she dropped the lance and fell backward slightly, her legs still around the horse as it galloped to a stop. Her head swam and spun, and she could feel the pressure of the metal on the side of her face, but knew that nothing was broken or really hurt in her daze.

She heard running footsteps; Roland and Wat had run to her.

“Amelia! Amelia, are you alive?!” Roland yelled as he steadied her.

“We won! We won!” Wat yelled, and made Amelia’s head pound.

“Can you hear me?” Roland asked.

“We won, we won, we won-” Wat was cheering happily, grabbing Roland from behind.

“Get off me! Amelia, can you hear me?” Roland asked frantically.

Amelia couldn’t answer, unable to find her vocal cords.

She heard Wat soundly kiss the horse as Roland pushed her further up into a sitting position.

“We won!” Wat cried.

Roland reached a hand up and he heard her groan, and a smile broke out on his face.

“She’s breathing. She’s breathing!”

She could hear them yelling and cheering. Why couldn’t they just calm down and help her off the bloody horse?

XxXxX

“Sir Adman.”

Amelia turned her head to look towards the source of the sound. She couldn’t see, and after many failed attempts, could not get the helmet off easily, which was probably a good thing.

A voice, closer now, sighed. “Sir Adman. Remove your helmet.”

“My lord, the final blow of the land has bent it onto my head, I’m afraid.” Amelia thought quickly, reaching up to hit the top of it with her knuckles, being sure to use the male’s voice she’d come up with.

“He says the final blow of the-” She heard Wat begin to said, but she reached over to elbow him hard in the side, and felt an evil smirk curl onto her lips at feeling him cringe under her hand.

“I present your champion, my lord.” The man said, and Amelia breathed a sigh of relief.

She felt Roland’s hand grab her arm and bring it up, and she assumed it was to grab the prize. He brought her hand up, and helped her tighten it around it.

When she had it, she brought it up and showed it off, people cheering.

Maybe this could work, after all…

XxXxX

Amelia sighed as they finished packing up the back of the cart. She had felt naked without the armor, now. It was the strangest feeling.

“You look much better with it off, Amelia…” Wat said, and she looked over at him.

“What, a muddy, haggard, ragged girl is attractive to you?” She asked, her hands on her hips.

“Well, yea…” Wat said, and watched as Roland came over to them from bargaining off their prize.

“Fifteen silver florins. He didn’t want that.” Roland said, tossing the pillow the feather had come on over at Wat, who caught it to stuff it in the cart as well.

“That’s five for you, Wat, five for Amelia, and five for Roland, who’s going straight home to England.” Roland said, heading over towards the horses.

“Straight to the pub for me. Eel pie, brie tart…tansy cakes with peppermint cream…” She could hear Wat saying, and heard both of them chuckle.

Amelia smiled. “We could do this.”

“We’ve done it, girl. That’s silver in your hand.” Roland said.

“No, I mean, we can do this. We can be champions.”

Roland and Wat both looked at each other, then turned to look at Amelia as though she had lost her mind.

“Give me your coins.” Amelia said, holding out her hand.

The smiles on both of their faces faded and both looked confused.

“Now, come on, give me your coins!” She said, going over to take them from their hands.

“That’s not very ladylike, Amelia…” Wat grumbled.

“Right, now that’s one for you,” she said, putting a coin in Roland’s hand, and turned to do the same for Wat, “one for you, which leaves…thirteen. That’s thirteen for training and outfitting. The tournament in Rouen is a month from now. In a month from now we could split a prize bigger than this one.”

Wat looked like he knew she had gone insane, and Roland just stared at her.

“In one month, we could be on our way to glory and riches that none of us ever dreamed of!” Amelia said.

“In one month, we could be laying in a ditch with Sir Adman. I don’t want glory and riches, Amelia. I just want to go home.” Roland said.

“Tansy cakes with peppermint cream, dilled veal balls with squash bread, I’ll take my five now!” Wat said, holding out his hand expectantly.

Amelia seethed, and turned and walked away. She knew the two were staring after her, but she didn’t care. They ran after her quickly, not knowing what else to do.

“Oh, wait up!” Wat yelled after her. “You’re going the wrong way!”

“But you can’t even joust!” Roland tried to counter once he’d caught up with her, but she stared straight ahead.

“I can too joust, in case you haven’t seen that silver in your hand.” She replied angrily to him. “And most of it is the guts to take a blow, to strike one! And guts I have, or did you not see that dent in the helmet?! And technique? I have a month to learn that! Besides, the sword! Name a man better with a sword than I am!”

“In the practice ring!” Wat said, as he and Roland both ran to jump in her way and stop her.

“You’re not of noble birth! And you’re a woman, for Jesus’ sake!” Roland cried.

“Well so, we lie! That’s how we got this silver!” She said as she held up the thirteen silver florins in her hand.

“How did the nobles become noble in the first place anyway, huh?” She asked. “They took it, at the tip of a sword! What’s to say I can’t do that with both a sword and a lance?”

“A blunted lance!” Wat cried.

“No matter, Wat!” Amelia growled. “A person can change their stars. I won’t spend the rest of my life as nothing!”

“That is nothing!” Roland said, turning to point at a small area of gallows, where a dead man was hanging by his neck. “And that is right where glory will take us!”

“We’re peasants. Glory and riches and stars are beyond our grasp, but a full stomach? That dream can come true, Amelia!” Wat yelled at her.

Amelia thought, then walked past the both of them and stopped a few feet away, holding out her hands. “If you can take your coins, go to England, eat cake. But if you can’t, you come with me.” She said, and then held up her fists as though she were ready to fight.

Roland and Wat stared at her.

“You see? Money doesn’t matter!” Amelia said with a grin.

They both looked at each other, and then they both ran at and jumped her at the same time. They were both going for her hands, where their silver florins were being held hostage by her fingers.

Roland wasn’t succeeding very well, but Wat had grabbed her hand and was biting at her fingers. She screamed as she forced herself to her feet, throwing the two of them off her easily after she’d gained her footing.

Roland was chuckling like a madman, and Wat had an incredulous look on his face. “You see how hungry I am?!” He cried. “Do you?!”

“Damn your stomach, Wat!” Amelia looked to Roland, who was still chuckling. “Roland, please!”

He calmed, and looked at her again, still panting slightly.

“Please…with thirteen pieces of silver, three poor peasants can change their stars…”

Roland seemed to be thinking for a few minutes before he finally looked up at her. He looked at Wat, who nodded with a heavy sigh.

“God love you, Amelia.” Roland said, and she grinned.

“I know, I know. No one else will.”

XxXxXxX

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Disclaimer: I own Amelia and the changes made to the story line. All other characters and plot are not mine.