The Greatest Knight Read Online Free PDF Page B

tight around the knight’s bridle. “I am kin to Guillaume de Tancarville, nephew to the Earl of Salisbury, and cousin to the Count of Perche.”
    “And by the looks of you, one of de Tancarville’s young glory hunters without a penny to your patrimony,” growled de Valognes.
    “Not until now, my lord,” William said pleasantly.
    De Valognes acknowledged the quip with a snort of reluctant humour. “I will have my attendant bring the price of my horse and armour to the sharing of the booty,” he said.
    With a bow, William released the bridle, letting de Valognes spur back into the tourney like a carp reprieved by an angler and returned to the river. “Hah!” cried William and, urging Blancart into the fray, went to net more fish.
    ***
    A muscle working in his cheek, Adam Yqueboeuf unbuckled his swordbelt and handed it across to William. “You win your wager,” he muttered gracelessly. “I’ve never seen anyone with so much luck.”
    William had gained the price of four warhorses in the tourney and half the price of another which he had shared with Gadefer de Lorys. The amount might be no great sum to the likes of Philip de Valognes and Guillaume de Tancarville, but to William it was a small fortune and proof of his ability to provide for himself. Smiling at Yqueboeuf, he inclined his head. “Some would say that a man makes his own luck, but what do they know?” He studied the swordbelt and the attached scabbard, but did not draw the weapon. “A man’s blade is made to suit his own hand. I gift it back to you with my goodwill.” Bestowing a courtly bow, he returned Yqueboeuf’s sword, his smile becoming a grin.
    If Yqueboeuf had been struggling to swallow his mortification before, now it was choking him. Uttering a few strangled words of insincere gratitude, he closed his fist around his scabbard and, turning on his heel, strode away.
    “You make enemies as well as friends in life, remember that, lad,” said de Tancarville, drawing William aside for a quiet word before the carousing started. “You’ve a rare talent there and lesser men will resent it.”
    “Yes, my lord,” William said. He looked troubled. “Yqueboeuf’s sword would have been of no use to me. I thought about asking him for its value in coin, but it seemed more courtly to return it to him.”
    De Tancarville pursed his lips. “I cannot fault your reasoning, but high courtesy will not protect you from malice.”
    “I know that, my lord.” William’s eyelids tensed. “I have endured the years of being called ‘Guzzleguts’ and ‘Slugabed.’ Perhaps some of it is deserved, but as much stems from being your impoverished kin as from the truth. At need I can go without food and sleep.”
    “I’m sure you can.” The Chamberlain cleared his throat with unnecessary vigour. “What will you do now?”
    The question shook William, for he understood what it presaged. Whatever his skill, de Tancarville was not prepared to continue to furnish his helm. The tourney had been a great success, but it was over and now he had a surplus of young knights. William was being as good as told he was too troublesome to keep.
    “I have been thinking about visiting my family,” he said, swallowing his disappointment.
    “You have been many years away; they will be glad to see you again.” De Tancarville showed his discomfort by rubbing his forefinger over the jewelled band on his cap.
    “Perhaps they won’t recognise me,” William said, “nor I them.” He looked thoughtful. “Tourneying is not permitted in England, and Gadefer told me that there is another contest three days’ ride away. I thought I might try my fortune there first—with your permission.”
    The last three words gave de Tancarville a way to make a graceful and formal ending to the obligation that had tied him to William and William to him for the past five years. “You have it,” he said, “and my blessing.” He clasped William’s shoulders and kissed him soundly on