Chapter Nine

CHAPTER NINE

Year of Our Lord 1223

Bromley Castle's Tournament of Champions

"W hy are we here again?"

Riding in a fine carriage painted with the de Lohr colors of yellow and sky blue, Christin was straining to see the road ahead.

"You know why," she said patiently. "Papa said that Essien and Addax could compete. You know they miss their days on the tournament circuit and since we were going to be in London anyway at young Henry's invitation, Papa told them they could compete in the enormous Bromley tournament. Sherry says that it's drawing knights from all over England and France."

It wasn't that Brielle wasn't interested in the games, because she was. She was better than most of the men in the joust and in the mass competition, but her father had forbidden her from competing because it was unheard of for a woman to do so and especially in a large regional tournament. A tournament like Bromley's was meant for the best of the best. If they'd let her in, that would have been Brielle.

But not this time.

"I don't know why Papa will not let me participate," she said, folding her arms across her chest rather angrily. "I've competed before."

"Local games, darling," Christin reminded her. "And only a couple. They don't have the stout competition that the Bromley tournament has."

"I can hold my own," she said. "I have my forged documents. I could submit them and no one would know the difference."

Christin could only shake her head. "With this competition?" she said, incredulous. "I know that Sherry has helped you pack your things, but you should also know that Papa found out and removed everything. He does not want you tempting fate."

Brielle wasn't surprised that her father had removed her equipment. He was less than happy with his daughter who liked to compete with the men from time to time. "Mayhap I will not compete at Bromley," she said. "But there will be others."

"Not if Papa can help it."

"He cannot help what he does not know."

Christin rolled her eyes. "Brie, please ," she said. "For once, just be a lady. It will not kill you to behave yourself."

Brielle backed off, but it was only to keep the peace. Besides, she only competed against the men to stave off boredom. It wasn't like it was her life's passion. But her silence wasn't a surrender and Christin knew it.

She knew what her sister was thinking.

In the years since Cassian's disappearance, Brielle had undergone something of a transformation. It all started about three months after Cassian had gone when she realized she was pregnant. It wouldn't have been an issue had Brielle and Cassian been allowed to marry, but since that had never happened, Brielle was facing a monumental problem. She'd kept it to herself until her fifth month when Christin picked up on it. She'd confessed it to her sister and to Alexander, and the two of them kept her secret until the sixth month when Dustin happened to catch Brielle mostly undressed and got a look at her rounded belly.

Then, a decision had to be made.

A tearful confession to Christopher followed.

The pregnancy was the entire reason why Christopher had sent the missive to Pelinom to find out when Cassian would be returning. That was how they were informed of his disappearance in the first place. When it became clear that Cassian was never returning, Brielle went into confinement at her brother's stronghold of Ludlow Castle, far away from the bustle and gossips of Lioncross Abbey.

There, Peter de Lohr was more than happy to hide his sister away.

Almost three months after that missive had been sent to Pelinom on the eve of a dark and stormy night, Brielle delivered an enormous male child who looked exactly like Cassian. He had been delivered by Dustin and Peter's wife, Liora, and the first person to hold him other than his grandmother had been Christopher, who had wept at the sight of Jax's newest grandson, knowing how proud the man would have been.

The child that linked de Velt and de Lohr.

But it wasn't an ideal birth and they all knew it. Therefore, they already had a plan. A neighboring farmer, a good man with six children already, had agreed to take the infant and raise him until he was old enough to foster. But the moment Dustin put her hands on the baby, she fought ferociously to keep the child at Lioncross and, truth be told, Christopher didn't give her much of an argument. The child had de Lohr and de Velt bloodlines and was destined to be one of the greatest knights of his generation, but the one concession he wouldn't make was on the surname.

He insisted the child bear the name of de Lohr.

Little Maxim, known as Max to honor his grandfather Jax, remained at Ludlow for the first three months of his life, bonding with his mother, who was going through her own emotional difficulties. Every time she looked at the baby, she saw Cassian and any healing she had been trying to do at his disappearance vanished. Dustin and Christopher watched Brielle slip away, day by day, as the child grew stronger. She loved the babe desperately, but her loss of Cassian was too deep to bear.

She wept for him constantly.

When the child was three months of age, Dustin found a wetnurse and took the baby back to Lioncross with the story that he was the orphaned child of Christopher's cousin. It was a good thing that no one dug into the family tree too much because Christopher didn't really have any cousins, at least not close ones, so the general population of Lioncross took Christopher's word for it.

At least, they took his word for it until the baby started to grow up and the de Velt eye trait appeared. It had started appearing at about six months of age and by the time the child was a year old, his dual-colored eyes were obvious. They were the usual brown and green combination, but in a different pattern. His right eye was a gorgeous shade of bright green while the left eye was literally half-green and half-brown– the green on the top, the brown on the bottom. It was a most unusual trait and, at that point, anyone who knew Cassian knew that this was his child. There was no mistaking it… and the fact that he had Brielle's fine features told the tale of who the parents really were.

There were no dead de Lohr cousins.

But Lioncross was a strange place. Gossip could fly most freely most of the time but, in this case, they seemed to be quite protective of a knight that had been well liked and the lord's grieving daughter. Little Max had people around him who loved him dearly and he was a joy in particular to old Jeffrey Kessler, who doted on the boy.

Max and Jeffrey made quite the pair.

While the lad was happily growing up at Lioncross, Brielle had been another matter. She loved her son and was quite attached to him, but her depression after his birth had been crushing. For the first two years of Max's life, she'd been barely able to function until one day, Essien had been out in the outer ward training with some men as she wandered by, rather aimlessly. Essien had engaged her, knowing that Cassian had taught Brielle many things about combat. He was simply trying to get her involved in something– anything – and as it turned out, training with the men was just the thing Brielle needed to come out of her shell.

It brought about an entirely new era in the life of Brielle de Lohr.

For the past five years, Brielle had been training with the men, becoming part of Cassian's world in a way she could have never imagined. Fighting with swords and on horseback kept her close to a man who was still a part of her world even though he was gone. The first time there was a small skirmish in the nearby town of Kington, Brielle had ridden out with the men and she'd held her own in what turned out to be a fairly nasty, if not brief, fight.

But Christopher was reluctant to encourage her further even as Dustin saw her daughter blossoming in a way that, to her, kept Cassian's memory alive. Learning to fight and training like a warrior kept her immersed in his lifestyle every single day. She returned to her wise, levelheaded, and humorous self as long as she was able to pick up arms where Cassian left off.

By her side the entire time was her son, Max.

He was a little young to squire, that was very true, but he was also a very big lad for his age, bright and quick. His features for the most part may have been his mother's, but his smile was purely Cassian and the fact that he wanted to learn to fight right alongside his mother and the other knights endeared him so much to Christopher that he didn't have the heart to deny him. While most boys his age were doing mundane things, like household errands and tasks for the soldiers, Max was already learning the ropes of being a knight.

Christopher wasn't sure when he realized that he was indulging Max the same way Jax had indulged Cassian those years ago, but he knew for a fact that Jax was standing beside him in every way when it came to the welfare and education of Max. It began to occur to him that it didn't seem right not to let the de Velt family know about him, so when Max was about six years of age, Christopher sent a missive to Cassian's eldest brother, Cole, and told him of Cassian's son. That was all Cole needed to come down from Berwick with Julian, in fact, so they could see their brother's offspring. Christopher had watched them both weep at the sight.

The years passed.

Christin had more children– now with four young sons– but Brielle refused to entertain the thought of another suitor. A de Nerra son, Gavin, had shown a great deal of interest in her at one point, but she politely refused him repeatedly until he finally got the hint. It wasn't that Brielle wasn't romantically inclined towards men anymore. It was the sheer fact that the only man she'd ever loved, a man whose child she bore, was gone.

There simply was no other man for her.

Nowadays, she was considered quite a spinster at her advanced age of twenty years and eight. Far too old for a woman to be considered a maiden or even a viable marital prospect, but Brielle didn't care. She wasn't exactly happy in life and knew she never would be, but at least she was content. She had a beautiful son to look at daily to remind her of the life she could have had. She had Max and she was grateful for it, the bastard son posing as her young cousin who wasn't fooling anyone. Someday, she supposed they'd give up the charade, but not yet.

Then, about four months ago, the winds of change began to blow.

Something that would possibly affect Brielle's life deeply.

It all started when Essien and Addax, the two brothers who had been fixtures on the tournament circuit several years before, saw the banners for a tournament being held in Gloucester to celebrate the first birthday of the Earl of Gloucester's heir. It was a rather exciting and somewhat bloody celebration for a baby, but Addax and Essien were given permission to compete.

The Black Dragon and the God of Vengeance, as they'd once been known on the tournament circuit, enjoyed a triumphant return to the fields of competition. Peter, Alexander, and some of the de Lohr men went along to support Essien and Addax, which was all great fun in the mass competition until an enormous knight and his equally enormous friend set upon Essien and Addax. Mass competitions were always a free-for-all and this one was no exception. The men that had ended up capturing Essien and then Addax before ransoming them were the same pair that people were speaking of, the terrifying knights known as The Dark Conqueror and Bringer of Nightmares.

They'd certainly become Essien and Addax' nightmares.

The competition turned out to be a victory for the pair in the mass competition, but in the joust, Addax managed to eke out a win. It had been very hard fought but, in the end, judgment went in his favor. When he went to the encampment of the men whose names were listed as Beaumont and Coleby to congratulate them for a battle well-fought, he caught sight of something that both confused and shocked him.

He caught a glimpse of one of the men entering a tent, certain he'd just seen Cassian.

That bit of news made it to Alexander and Peter, who went quickly to see if it was, indeed, Cassian but they weren't able to speak with him. They were told that there was only a man known as Coleby and certainly no one named Cassian de Velt. Being clever spies in their own right, however, they lay in wait after the cessation of the tournament when all of the major players were packing up and departing, and they'd managed to catch sight of the competitor known as The Dark Conqueror as he left with his men and possessions.

From the shadows, they caught sight of Cassian de Velt in the flesh.

Only he didn't look like the Cassian they remembered.

Shocked and bewildered, they didn't say anything to anyone other than Addax and Essien, and they kept the secret for a short time. But Alexander finally broke down and told his wife, who immediately told her father. Stunned and dismayed, Christopher sent out men to discover where The Dark Conqueror was competing next and Bromley seemed to be his next destination.

And that's why the entire family had come to Bromley under the guise of Addax and Essien competing in a master tournament.

But Brielle didn't know that.

Even now, she seemed to be detached from what was going on. Disinterested, even, but only because she'd been forbidden to compete. Christin knew it was all an act because Brielle had secretly packed her mail and weapons, and Alexander had brought the joust poles that had been used at Lioncross from time to time, so there was a good probability that Brielle was going to compete, anyway, with or without her father's permission. As far as Christin was concerned, that was the hope.

Perhaps she'd even run into The Dark Conqueror before Christopher got to him.

"Mama!" Christin's second to youngest boy, Gabriel, was frantically pointing from the window. "Mama, look! Look at the dogs!"

Distracted from her thoughts, Christin tried to look from the window but she was prevented by two little boys who were dying to see, too. She finally pushed between them so she could see.

"What is it?" Brielle asked.

Christin only looked for a couple of moments before sitting back down again. "There is a festival of some kind going on," she said. "You know the ones that follow these tournaments around. There is a group of trained dogs out there."

"Please, Mama!" The boys were begging in unison, pulling at her. "We want to see the dogs!"

Brielle grinned, watching her sister as she was ambushed by two eager boys. "If they want to go, I will take them," she said. "My suspicion is that Max, Andrew, and Adam are seeing the same dogs from where they are riding. I'll bet they want to go as well."

Christin shrugged and went to the rear of the enclosed carriage. The cab itself was like a fortress, with solid iron and wooden walls and a roof for protection. Inside, it was nice and comfortable, but visibility and air were sometimes limited because of the narrow windows. Unlatching the door at the back, she opened it up to expose her husband and several others riding behind the carriage.

She eyed her dark-haired, dark-bearded husband with some exasperation. "Gabriel and Nicholas are demanding to see those dogs we just passed," she said. "Can we stop briefly so we can take the boys? I do not think they will quiet down if we do not."

Alexander flashed his big, white teeth at his wife, looking behind him to where more than a half-dozen children were riding in various forms. Most were in the quartermaster wagons, wagons that followed any escort larger than about fifty men around. In this case, Christopher had sent one hundred men and several knights to Bromley from his London manse of Lonsdale House. Fortunately, it wasn't much of a distance.

Every child in the de Lohr household was traveling to see the tournament, including Brielle, Christin, and Rebecca, who had seen fifteen years now and was already a ravishing redhead. Rebecca wanted to ride in the quartermaster's wagon, however, because she wanted to see everything, so Essien rode next to the wagon, explaining the different sights to her and her excited siblings and nephews.

And there was a gang of them.

The dancing dogs had not been missed by Westley, Douglas, or Olivia Charlotte. Douglas was almost too old to be riding in the wagon at twelve years and had told his father so, but Christopher had made him ride with his younger siblings to watch out for them while Myles, now eighteen years of age and a muscular young knight, rode to the rear of the wagons, much to Douglas' envy. Unfortunately, the fact that Alexander's older sons, Andrew and Adam, had permission to ride their stout Welsh ponies next to their father had Douglas seething even more.

Therefore, not all of the children in the wagon were happy.

As Alexander looked back on the group, he could see that. He felt bad for Douglas, at that awkward age where he wasn't a child any longer but he wasn't exactly an adult. Christopher was still back at Lonsdale because he had business with William Marshal's son, also William Marshal, so Alexander had been put in charge of the escort.

He was about to make an executive decision.

"Douglas!" he shouted.

Hearing his name, Douglas bolted up on the wagon bed. "My lord?"

When they were in a family situation, the children were allowed to call Alexander by his name, but in a formal situation like this, protocols were observed.

"Get out of the wagon," Alexander said. "I need you to scout the area near the dogs. Look it over for dangers or concerns and then run back here and tell me what you see."

Douglas vaulted over the side of the wagon bed and took off running, into the festive area that was flanking the road they were on. The actual tournament field itself was further down the road, near the mighty bastion of Bromley Castle, but the festival and tournament were spread out west of the castle and next to the River Raven.

Alexander sent a soldier charging to the front of the escort where Addax was on point, instructing Addax to call a halt.

The wagons, men, and children ground to a stop.

"Come on," he said, gesturing to his wife in the doorway. "Get the children out of the cab and gather the herd."

With a grin, Christin helped Gabriel and then Nicholas out of the cab. By that time, Alexander had dismounted his horse and was waiting to help her climb down. She took his help, leaning into him as he easily lifted her out of the cab and set her on her feet. But he didn't let her go; he held on to her for a moment.

"Are you sure you feel well enough?" he asked.

Christin pursed her lips irritably at him. "I told you that I feel fine," she said. "You have nothing to worry about."

He smiled. "You are carrying my next son," he said. "Though I am pleased with four, I have always wanted five, so I want to ensure you are feeling well enough before you go traipsing off with that unruly mob."

Christin giggled but Brielle, standing at the cab door, sighed loudly. "Enough with you two and your sickening love talk," she said. "Get out of my way, both of you. Someone needs to corral these children."

Alexander chuckled, pulling Christin aside as Brielle climbed out of the cab. Dressed in a mustard yellow gown made of tiretaine , a fine woolen weave, she wore a golden necklace strung with yellow citrine stones and her long hair was tied back with a silken yellow ribbon. She looked quite fashionable and ladylike, which wasn't usual with her. Usually, she dressed in simple clothing if not plain brown broadcloth at times because of the strenuous activities she engaged in. Sometimes, she even wore a long tunic and linen breeches, much to her parents' dismay. But today, she'd taken some effort to look like a proper lady. As she went over to the group of children and organized them in rows of two, Alexander and Christin watched her.

"Where do you think Cassian is?" Christin asked softly. "Will he be at the field?"

Alexander's dark eyes turned towards the field in the distance. "Possibly," he said. "I do not know, but once we settle the wagons and the men, I will poke around and see if I cannot find him."

Christin looked at him. "He knows you, Sherry," she said. "What are you going to say if he recognizes you?"

Alexander shrugged. "I will greet him calmly," he said. "I will then ask him why he disappeared without a trace and left your sister pregnant. If I do not like his answer, I will thrash him within an inch of his life."

Christin put her hand on his cheek. "Do not ," she said plainly. "If anyone will do the thrashing, it will be Brielle when she discovers he was not killed or abducted on his way to Pelinom those years back. But I will admit… I would like to know why he simply left and we've not heard from him since."

Alexander sighed heavily, sounding more like a growl. "Look at Max," he said, watching Cassian's seven-year-old son as he tussled with their eldest boy, Andrew. "He's bright, eager, and kind. Brielle has done a remarkable job with him. To think of Cassian leaving that boy fatherless fills me with rage."

Christin was forced to pat his cheek to soothe him before standing on her toes to kiss him. "I know," she whispered. "But this is not our fight. We do not know why he left or why he has stayed away, so do not judge him yet. If you see Cassian… if he sees you… you are not to fight him, Sherry. Please. This will be difficult enough for Brielle without you knocking out Cassian's teeth and God knows what else."

Alexander merely nodded, but it was clear that he was unhappy about it. As he went back to his warhorse, Christin went over to the group of children who were excitedly chatting, eager to go to the faire and see the dancing dogs. She held up her hands and whistled between her teeth, effectively catching their attention.

"Now," she said loudly. "Everyone hold the hand of someone else. Max, hold Andrew's hand, please."

Max screwed up his face in disgust, a gesture that was reminiscent of his father. "May I hold Lottie's hand, please?"

Exasperated, Christin went through the motions of pairing up the children with partners they wanted to hold hands with. Max didn't seem to be happy with anyone because Olivia Charlotte wanted to hold hands with her older sister, so that paired all of the boys with each other. Brielle ended up taking Max's hand because he and Andrew kept trying to see who could squeeze hard enough to break fingers.

With Brielle holding Max's hand and Christin holding Nicholas', her youngest, they waited for Douglas to return from his scouting expedition. Fortunately for the impatient group, Douglas returned quickly to tell them that there were not only dogs performing, but goats as well. With a six-man escort assigned to them by Alexander, nine children and two women headed over to the faire to see the dogs dance and the goats do tricks.

Little did Brielle know that she was about to see much more than that.

*

"Is she still there?"

Beau pretended like he hadn't heard him as he wolfed down the gravy-soaked bread from the meal he'd just eaten.

Cassian thumped him on the arm.

"Is that woman still there?" he demanded.

They were standing over near a food stall, the same one with the gravy bowls, only Cassian was trying to hide his bulk behind a tree.

Beau grinned.

"She is gone," he said. "I do not know what you are so worried about. You were plain enough when you told her that you did not wish to carry her favor."

Cassian snorted. "You know the direct approach does not always work and her father is a Cornish warlord I have no desire to offend."

"How do you know that?"

Cassian cocked an eyebrow. "Unlike you, my deaf friend, I listen when people talk," he said, teasing the man in a way Beau was immune to because he certainly fired back on occasion. "I heard a couple of knights speaking on her last night. Her father is a d'Vant and they are warmongers."

"You could find yourself running for your life if you offend her."

"Precisely."

Beau glanced at him. "I have no sympathy for you," he said. "Look at the way you parade around– leather breeches, boots, no tunic covering anything from the waist up, and that big cloak with the fur collar on it. You just want the women to see your muscles, my lad. I literally could not have less sympathy for you."

Cassian grinned, looking down at himself. With the way he'd bulked up over the years, he looked like a god. Muscular chest, trim waist, tight abdomen, and enormously muscled arms. Nothing but glory and muscles.

"I admit I do it to show off," he said. "But only because women who like what they see will throw money at me and, better still, so will their fathers. This physique has made us rich, de Russe."

"It has made you rich."

"Have I not shared the wealth?"

Beau sighed. "You have."

"Then stop complaining and keep the women away from me," Cassian snapped softly. "I want their money. Just not them ."

Beau looked at him in exasperation. "Then why do you do it if you do not want to attract a woman who will do more than throw money at you?" he demanded. "You've had rich and, I might add, very beautiful women throw themselves at you and do it happily, but you have never to my knowledge accepted one advance. Not one. You have left a trail of broken hearts behind us that could run north to Scotland and back to London several times over."

Cassian's smile faded. "I told you once," he muttered. "There is only one woman for me and that was long ago. I will never love another. I cannot even stomach another."

That was a story Beau had heard before. When Cassian had too much to drink, he'd heard even more of this mysterious woman Cassian had loved since childhood. Her father was a major warlord, though Cassian would never say who it was. Or where she was. All he knew was that the woman was the only woman for Cassian even though the man was chased after like he'd never seen before.

But Cassian had never let anyone catch him, not once.

As he'd said– he'd given his heart once and it wasn't his to give again.

Therefore, Beau left him alone. Licking the last of the gravy off his fingers, he and Cassian headed over towards the tournament field because they were about to post the list of competitors. The usual suspects were there, men that Cassian and Beau had competed against, many times, but this tournament also had additional knights entering from London and outlying cities. There were plenty of them.

More men to defeat, as far as Cassian was concerned.

Because he and Beau were well-known to the usual crowd who followed around the tournaments, some of them only spectators but most of them vendors or blacksmiths or even merchants, they waved at a few people as they walked and Cassian found himself fending off the daughter of a smithy who had a particular fondness for him. He was polite but firm, yet she still followed him and Beau as they finally found the posted lists.

Then they began to read.

"Ah," Beau said. "D'Sagviniac from Dorset. We saw him last year in Salisbury."

"I remember," Cassian said, glued to the names. "These are mostly regular participants except for de Bermingham. That's Ireland, isn't it?"

Beau nodded. "Louth, I think," he said. "So we have an Irish knight, do we?"

Cassian nodded, still looking at the list until he came to a couple of names he recognized. In fact, he felt a rush of shock go through him as he stared at the names of two men he'd been very close with, once.

Addax and Essien al-Kort.

As Beau prattled on about the de Bermingham knight, Cassian's full attention was on those two names. The Black Dragon and the God of Vengeance had reappeared on the tournament circuit. It certainly wasn't strange by any means, considering those two had been the kings of the tournament circuit several years ago. Old competitors never die. Therefore, he really wasn't surprised to see them.

But he was surprised that it had taken this long.

He'd lived every day of the past seven years in fear that at some point, he would see a de Lohr or a de Velt or any number of Marshal allies who knew him. He'd seen a few from a distance, but he'd always managed to hide himself until the threat passed. Because he only used one name– Coleby– he'd had men try to dig into his past, but they'd never been able to get far. In fact, there was one not too long ago who had come around his encampment, asking about him, but his soldiers had managed to steer the man away.

It happened from time to time.

But now, he saw the names of Essien and Addax, men he'd adored, and he was feeling apprehensive about that. They served Christopher, or at least they had, and if they recognized him, surely it would get back to de Lohr.

To Brielle.

The woman whose memory was his only real comfort in life.

Odd how he could only remember her as he knew her, not as she surely must be these days. He couldn't imagine her being someone else's wife even though that was a good thing. It was what he'd wanted, for Brielle to find a man worthy of her in every way. Because he surely wasn't.

He still wasn't.

Though she was still with him and always would be, he knew he wasn't strong enough to see her in the new life she was surely living.

"Did you hear me?"

Beau thumped him, shaking him from his thoughts. Cassian looked at the man. "What did you say?"

"That Deinhold is here again. His name is on the list."

Cassian struggled to focus on what Beau was indicating. "Rolf Deinhold," he said, sounding displeased. "That is the one who tried to take your head off in the joust last year in Norwich."

"The same."

"Then we shall have to be on our guard," Cassian said. Then he turned to look at the crowd behind them, other men who had come to see the names on the list. It occurred to him that Addax and Essien could have snuck up on him and he wouldn't have seen them until it was too late. "I'm going to look around a little. I'll see you back at the encampment."

Beau simply nodded, seeing nothing unusual in Cassian wandering on his own, which he did often. As he headed off towards the tournament field, Cassian headed back out to the faire area.

He was right on the eastern outskirts, with the faire in front of him towards the west, situated along the river's edge. To his left, the south, was a road that ran from London into Bromley, one traveled by all visitors and competitors coming to the tournament field. He had seen several large parties come through already and as he watched, another party passed through, one bearing colors of red and white.

He didn't recognize the group or their standard, but that didn't stop him from keeping an eye out for the next group, which he could see far down the road. Not wanting to be obvious, or worse, be seen by some of the women who followed the tournament circuit from town to town, he tucked back under the awning of a merchant who had all manner of copper items– jewelry, pots, and anything else one might want made from copper.

He was on the end of the faire that had the metalworkers, so he stuck to the edge of their stalls, staying away from the small but busy avenue that ran from one end of the faire to the other. There were a great many people at this time of day because there would be an exhibition later on that would show off the competitors to the crowd. Tomorrow was the mass competition, which would last all day, and then the next three days after that were scheduled for the joust.

Already, there was a sense of excitement in the air.

Usually, Cassian fed off the thrill of the crowd. He fed off the women who wept for a lock of his hair or begged him for a touch of his hand. Those women had made him far more wealthy than he'd ever dreamed he could be, the youngest son of a great knight who wasn't set to inherit anything that belonged to his father other than a tiny portion of the man's fortune. He'd also heard Jax mention, once, about giving him one of his Welsh castles, but Jax's premature death had seen an end to that. Not that Cassian felt he was worthy of it, and he still felt that way, so the fact that he'd earned his fortune all by himself was something he was proud of.

Perhaps the only thing in his life he was proud of.

He came to a gap in between a couple of stalls, with an alleyway that ran from the main road to the avenue of the faire. He could hear horses and wagons out on the road, so he headed up the alleyway to peer down the road to see who was coming. He'd just made it to the edge of the alleyway when he caught a glimpse of a yellow lion on a sea of blue.

Not just any yellow lion.

He'd seen that shade before.

Startled, he tucked against the back of one of the stalls, peering around the corner to see that the Earl of Hereford and Worcester had indeed arrived. Christopher de Lohr's banners were waving in the breeze, snapping above the escort, and all Cassian could manage to feel was surprise. Sickening shock and surprise.

It had finally happened.

He supposed it was too much to ask to go the rest of his life without running into the House of de Lohr. All he could think of was heading back to the competitors' encampment and simply staying out of the way. He didn't see Essien or Addax, but that didn't mean they weren't around, especially with the House of de Lohr heading to the tournament field. He didn't even stop to see who was with the escort.

Those banners were enough.

A bit disoriented, Cassian hurried back the way he'd come, making his way back to the competitors' encampment, which would become his home, his cave, and his hideout until the Bromley tournament was over with. Now came the incredibly difficult problem of trying to hide his face from the crowd, knowing Christopher and possibly other de Lohr family members would be there.

But the truth was that he'd planned for this moment. He'd been planning on it ever since he'd joined the tournament circuit. He was just going to have to be calm, quiet, and collected and he'd get through this.

At least, that was the hope.

All he had to do was hide between bouts to avoid the usual screaming females that followed him around. But even as he made his way back to the encampment as quickly as he could, he knew that was going to be difficult.

A wall of women in front of him told him so.

They all wanted to see their Dark Conqueror.