Kaltienne turned on him, hot-faced. “Listen, you—”

“Keep ranks!” Sir Polquin bawled, returning just in time. Kaltienne snapped back to his place in line, and they stood at stiff attention.

“There’s been a change,” Sir Polquin announced. “Sir Roye will be the third judge, instead of his highness.”

Dain grimaced to himself. It was hardly an improvement in his favor. Although he left Dain alone, Sir Roye still disliked him. He told himself the protector was a knight and will judge fairly, but in his heart Dain wasn’t so sure.  “Let’s get this started,” Sir Polquin said. He waved at the stableboys, who led the saddled horses up. They were chargers, long put out to pasture, their muzzles grayed, these old warhorses still knew their training. They recognized the festivities, and their ears were pricked with interest.  “Must we ride these old plugs?” Mierre complained.

One of the horses tried to bite him, and Mierre’s protest was lost in the general laughter.

“Mount,” Sir Polquin ordered.

“Hold up!” Lord Odfrey called, interrupting them.

From the benches, the spectators began to yell and clap, ing to get things started. Lord Odfrey, however, rode across field and pointed at Dain.  “Come away, lad,” he said.

Dain handed the reins back to a stableboy. Not understanding at first, thinking Lord Odfrey was going to give him a private word of encouragement and wishing he wouldn’t, he walked out to meet the chevard. “Lord,” he said, grinning a squinted up into Lord Odfrey’s dark eyes, “I will do my best today. I will show you—” “Leave the field,” Lord Odfrey said. “You won’t be competining for this honor.” Dain’s smile faded. At first, he didn’t believe he had heard correctly, then he stammered, “But, lord, I—” “You heard my command,” Lord Odfrey said in his stern way. “Obey it.”