The Robber Knight's Protege

22 - The Crazy Priest

"You can't quit!" Fye shouted as she followed Reuben out of the arena.

"Why not?" he asked as he whirled around. "With me out of the picture, you're the only one left in the tournament who is fighting as Reynolds' champion. He'll do whatever is necessary to make sure you're kept safe and treated fairly. I think it was a rather brilliant move."

"But if I don't win..."

If I don't win, Lord Arken will either win Reynolds' lands or go to war against his brother to get what he wants. And then Lady Ayla's fiefdom will have a thoroughly unpleasant neighbor.

"Who was your toughest opponent in the tournament?" Reuben asked.

"You."

"And then?"

"Arken."

"Yes. So it's down to you and him."

"No!" Fye protested. "It won't be a real victory unless I win against you! Go back in there and un-quit."

He grinned and shrugged. "You'll face me another day."

She glared at him. "I faced you today, and you quit. You're supposed to win the tournament."

Puzzlement—maybe it was even genuine—overcame his face. "I thought you wanted to win. Or did I somehow give you the impression that I would be heartbroken if you defeated me? I might be a little heartbroken, yes, but better you than one of those—"

"But I can't defeat you unless you're competing. We'll ask the judges for a rematch."

He shook his head, a tiny smile on his rugged face. "It's your show now, you boil-brained lout. So get back in there and—"

"Sir Reuben!" squawked a newcomer's voice. Lord Reynolds zipped out of the arena, his face red. "We had a deal. How dare you—"

"How dare I?" Reuben asked, danger dripping from his pores.

Reynolds stepped back, audibly swallowing. "Sir Reuben, please be reasonable. Come back. I will personally oversee the inspection of all the equipment Miss Fye uses. I beg you. I can't... I can't lose Winterhaven."

"Not my problem."

"But it is! If Arken takes Winterhaven, it will only be a matter of time before he marches on Lady Ayla's Fiefdom. Please."

Reuben stroked the stubble on his chin, and Fye wished she could figure out what he was going to do next. Was this him trying to prove a point, or had he quit in earnest? "No. All your hopes rest on Fye's shoulders now."

"But—"

"Did you see what she did in there? I wasn't holding back. Not at all. She had a fair chance of winning if she hadn't been given a faulty sword. If I had an evil twin who was breathing down my neck, I would want this girl fighting for me. Now be nice to her, or she'll lose on purpose—and then we'll laugh at you. Best wishes, milord."

Reuben walked away, leaving Fye stunned. She might have won? Really? Or was Reuben saying that for Lord Reynolds' sake. No, Fye told herself. I might have won. Reuben wasn't holding back. He told me he wouldn't. I can do this. I can win. She buzzed with hope. With excitement.

If it hadn't been very unknightly to squeal in delight, she would have.

"Miss Fye," Reynolds said, taking away some of the glow that Reuben's words had given to her.

Not that his words should matter too much, she thought. I know what I'm capable of, and I don't need Sir Reuben to tell me what I can do. It did feel nice, though.