Race of Scorpions - Dorothy Dunnett [302]
It was not decked out as for a gala, for this was a military occupation, and these were only games. What he was about to take part in was not a game, arms à plaisance; but neither did it have a noble purpose. He was not here as a Knight, to fulfil the Christian purpose of his Order, although what he did might serve James of Lusignan. Perhaps the emir Tzani-bey was here to defend his religion; but for three years he had accepted the payment of Christians to attack other Christians, and if he was bent on revolt, it was chiefly because he perceived a Turcoman threat to all Mamelukes.
These were issues of power, not religion. And whether they existed or not, the fact was that he and Tzani-bey would have fought one another anyway, over a personal grudge. It only happened to be taking place here because he wished the King to be present. If all the other spectators received joy of it, Nicholas had no objection.
Everything about this ground was familiar, as was the feel of his arms: his sword, the weight of his shield and his helm, the balance of the little horse under him. It was a long time since the Abruzzi, when he had seen Felix fall; and he had fought often on horseback since then. He had been fighting in the Abruzzi when he had been captured, the year before last. And brought here. And thought the love of arms was the new love he had discovered.
Behind him stood the castle. To his right ran the sea-wall, with the ocean behind it upon which the Adorno had met her fate. On his left, central among the spectators, was the awning hung with the cross and three lions of Lusignan. Beside Nicholas was the flag he had been given, which had upon it a silver cross-hilted sword on a blue field: emblem of the Order he had been admitted to twice (or not at all). At the other end, on a white horse, sat the emir Tzani-bey, his sword drawn. The emir who had chained him, flayed him, exposed him, and used him for his pleasure.
There was a drumroll and a flourish of trumpets: the overture. Then the tripping signal that warned the contestants to be prepared. Then the trumpets for onslaught.
Here there were no lists and no formalities. One did not ride courteously forward, gathering speed, strike, continue and turn, ready to repeat the process. There was no barrier. The emir simply gathered his horse and flung it into a gallop on a course that must collide with his own. And Nicholas, watching him, spurred his horse likewise.
It was one used for ball games, and wiry. If it had been heavier, he would have allowed the collision to happen. As it was, he waited until the last second, and his opponent did the same. The two horses swerved, brushing one another, and the two blades flashed, and met, and parted in a shower of sparks. As he struck, Nicholas was squeezing and turning his horse bodily beneath him.
He was just in time. Tzani-bey had played tzukanion also although not, Nicholas supposed, on the fields of the Emperor of Trebizond. He reappeared under his elbow and struck upwards. Nicholas ducked, and heard the steel pass with a whine. He turned and slashed; met cloth; met leather, tugged free and flung his horse away in a circle.
Tzani-bey had done the same. They sat, breathing quickly, watching one another. He realised that everyone in the world appeared to be screaming. He remembered what he was supposed to be doing; then forgot it. He saw Tzani-bey begin, very gently, to put his horse into a mild trot towards him and advanced his own mount at the same pace. Above the round shield he could see little of the emir’s dark face: two glittering eyes on either side of the nose-guard; a flash of teeth below the spreading moustache. His mail coat was long, covering his calves as he rode, and the high-backed saddle protected his rear. His horse, with no apparent instruction, suddenly increased its speed on a parallel course; arrived, and stopped dead as the emir struck.
Nicholas took on his shield a slash that would have cut off his neck. He felt the jar in his weaker shoulder as he parried, sliding sideways and forward. The