Deleted.

At last he had something to really fight for.

Sir Grassion swiped at the squire with a fist like iron, sending the lad to the floor of the tent. ?You look at women on your own time, not when you?re dressing me. Is that clear, boy??

?Yes, sir,? the lad said, holding his bloodied face. ?I thought it just might be the Lord of Derbyshire's daughter. . .?

Sir Grassion cut him off and pushed everyone aside as he hurried to the door of his pavilion. He stuck his grizzled and scared face into the sunlight and saw the two ladies hurrying away. He smiled, revealing a mouth full of yellow and decaying teeth. ?I think she has an interest in me! She shall be mine, lads! Now?finish preparing me for the contest.?

He got back up on the stool and held out his arms.

- - -

Far away from everyone else was another pavilion. It also had a red pendent flying, but in the center of the red flag was the image of a golden falcon.

Inside the pavilion two young squires were placing the finishing touches upon Lord Galeron?s armor. A double sided cape came off the shoulders of his armor. One side was black with gold trim; the other was the scarlet red of the Red Knight Galeron had them put the black on the outside?for now. He chose the black armor rather than the red, and the red blanket on his horse was covered over with a black sheet. He still was not ready to reveal his identity. The time would come.

He left the pavilion and stood on a riser that allowed him to mount the horse. His sword was at his left side. The squire handed a lance to his right hand, and they followed behind his horse as the Red Knight rode toward the contest grounds.

Delted.

Lord Galeron noticed Morgan?s eyes looking for the ?red knight?, and he was surprised how much that bothered him. It only made him more determined to set that impostor upon his rear.

Galeron had heard that there was a knight by the name of Sir Grassion who was going to tournaments, impersonating the Red Knight. At first Galeron had thought it was funny, but then he began to hear bad reports and his reputation was being ruined in town after town ? not by loses for Sir Grassion won every joust and duel, but by the lack of chivalrous behavior and his outright rudeness and impropriety with the ladies. It had to stop and Lord Galeron had come to this tournament to expose the impostor and put an end to his game.

Now it had become something more. There was a lady involved whom had attracted his attention, and it was beginning to bother him that Lady Morgan was enamored with the impostor. This was going to be more enjoyable than Lord Galeron had anticipated.

- - -

The first two knights lined up on the tournament field. The flag was lowered and they charged each other. In no time at all, one knight was down.

The second match lasted for five passes before a knight was actually unseated. The tournament continued with knight against knight on the joust field, until finally it was Sir Grassion?s turn. He faced his opponent with cheers from the stands. The flag dropped and the two knights charged each other. Lord Grassion?s lance hit the other knight so hard, that not only was he unseated, but he was carried off the field with severe injuries.

It then came to be Lord Galeron?s turn. His first opponent had plenty of weight and experience, but Galeron had no difficultly unseating him while letting his opponent's lance slide harmlessly off the side of his armor. Cheers rang out from the spectators, including Lord Taylor.

The games continued all afternoon with knights slowly being eliminated. Each Knight that Sir Grassion faced was hurt so brutally that they had to be carried off the field. He showed no mercy, and seemed to take pleasure in hurting others even though this was supposed to be a sport and not a death match.

Finally it all came down to just Lord Galeron and Lord Grassion. The crowd was on their feet as the two came to present themselves to Lord and Lady Taylor and to Morgan. A chant was going up: ?Red Knight?.Red Knight,? the crowd was excited because he so thoroughly demolished his opponents. Both knights stood before the stands with their visors still lowered. Lord Taylor stood and spoke to everyone.

?Today?s tournament has come down to two knights ? the Red Knight, and the one in black. Whomever wins the next joust not only wins the silver prize money, but also sits with my daughter, Morgan, at dinner this evening. As I mentioned at the very beginning, it appears that her favor rests with the Red Knight.?

Cheers erupted and Sir Grassion bowed to Morgan from his horse.

Sir Galeron nodded to Lord and Lady Taylor and then to Morgan. ?Lady Morgan, for your happiness sake, I indeed hope that the Red Knight is the victor.?

The two knights turned their horses about and walked to their respective sides of the jousting fence. Sir Galeron took his lance from his squire and stood at ready. Sir Grassin did the same. The flag lowered and both knights charged at each other. As they approached the center of the joust, their lances were lowered.

The crash of lance against armor was deafening and both lances shattered. They returned to their own side of the field where their squires were waiting with a replacement lance.

Lord Galeron raised his visor and looked at his squire. His face was in pain, the armor dented into his side. ?Let me have my lance,? he said.

?Sir, you?re hurt!?

?Only a little. He is good. If only his manners were as good as his fighting. My lance, please.?

The squire handed him the lance and once again the two knights lined up on opposite sides of the fence.

What no one could see was that Sir Grassion?s new lance had a metal tip instead of the blunt wood one. The flag lowered and once again the knights charged, and at the proper time the lances were lowered and aimed.

The thunder of horse?s hooves filled the tournament field. Sir Galeron changed at Sir Grassion, the ?black? knight against the ?red?. As Grassion?s lance was lowered, Sir Galeron noticed something unusual. The point of the lance glittered for a brief moment in the late afternoon sun. Galeron was experienced enough to know just what that meant ? a deadly metal tip. It also meant that he couldn?t allow that lance to strike him.

The horses closed in on each other. Both lances were lowered. Galeron quickly changed his strategy to parry Grassion?s lance and strike him in the helmet at the same time.

Sir Grassion was in position to see Lady Morgan come running onto the tournament field. He wondered what that bitch was doing. He wouldn?t mind if she would be trampled beneath Galeron?s horse. When he?d win this match he wouldn?t need her. He could have any woman in the kingdom. The ?Red Knight? always had his choice of women.

Sir Galeron hadn?t seen Morgan approach. He was facing the wrong way and the visor gave him limited visibility. It wasn?t until he had his lance aim and ready for the parry that she appeared at the corner of the view provided by the visor. His head turned in her direction, fearful that she would be hurt.

The sound of the crash of lances against armor was louder than the previous round. Once again the lances splintered, sending shards of wood in all directions. When it was over Sir Grassion?s helmet was on the ground and the knight was listing off to the side of his horse, barely keeping his balance. If fact, if it wasn?t for the illegal straps holding him to the horse, he would have been unseated.

Sir Galeron turned his destrier around and road up to Lady Morgan. He raised his visor and looked down upon her. ?M?lady, you could have been killed!? His tone was not of scolding, but revealed that he was truly concerned for her. He didn?t? notice that she had indeed received a cut from a lance splinter. He saw her father and a couple of guards come running for Lord Taylor?s daughter, to take her back.

It was only after he was sure she was safe that he looked at his shoulder. The end of Grassion?s lance was sticking out of his armor. The parry wasn?t completed and the metal tip hit his armor at the shoulder and penetrated his body before the lance snapped. Galeron looked at the severe wound and wove back and forth slightly in his shadow. ?Lady Morgan.? He waited for her to stop and look at him. ?I promise you, the Red Knight will win on this third round.? He gave her a pained wink, and rode off to his squire.

?Sir! You?re wounded! That bastard was using a metal tip! Let me help you.? The squire wanted to take Sir Galeron down off the horse and remove the lance from his shoulder.

?Don?t touch the wound. You pull it our now and I?ll loose too much blood.?

?But, sir!??

?I have one more round to fight. It?s time for the real Red Knight to make himself known.

Deleted.

Sir Galeron knew the evil that dwelt in the hearts of men like Grassion. He knew how such men love to kill and hurt and destroy; receiving some fleeting, warped pleasure from seeing others suffer. Perhaps seeing others suffer allowed them to momentarily ignore their own personal suffering of empty, soulless lives. He really didn?t know, but what he did know was that Grassion wanted to see him suffer; to not only lose, but to be humiliated, and if possible, to die.

That knowledge caused Sir Galeron to remove his own helmet, not just to even out the match, but to give Sir Grassion a target. He knew that Grassion couldn?t resist the opportunity to aim the tip of his lance at his unprotected head, seeking to tear it from his body for the kill. Removing his helmet not only gave Sir Galeron knowledge of his opponent?s target, but it took the target away from his wounded chest which the which could not move, to his head which could move and duck, and avoid the lance. On the other hand, Galeron?s target was lowered to Grassion?s belly. Such a low shot would lift Grassion out of his saddle it spite of the illegal straps. They were thin to avoid detection, and would easily snap with a low hit.

Horses charged, dirt and dust was kicked up, and Sir Galeron?s long black hair flew behind his head as the two knights rapidly approached each other. Lances were lowered and aimed at each other?s chest. At the last instant before impact, Sir Galeron?s strategy was revealed to be accurate. Sir Grassion raised his lance tip a foot to aim at Sir Galeron?s head, while Sir Galeron?s red lance dropped a foot to aim at the other knight?s large belly that could not move to avoid or deflect impact.

Sir Galeron moved his head down and to the right side and Grassion?s lance moved just over his shoulder and by his ear. Since Grassion had a complete miss, his body absorbed the full impact of Sir Galeron?s lance. It lifted the huge body of Sir Grassion up in the air and out of the saddle, doing a complete rotation in the air before hitting the ground unconscious.

A gasp rose up from the spectators, followed by great cheers that echoed in Sir Galeron?s ears as he dropped his red lance to the ground and pulled his horse to a halt using only his right arm. The lance in his shoulder and the weary from the tournament had taken its toll upon him. He wavered in his saddle, caught himself, then turned his horse toward the stands and slowly walked up to it.

He bowed to Lord and Lady Taylor and accepted their congratulations and the invitation to sit with his daughter at dinner.

?I am honored,? he replied in a weak voice, dropping his gaze to the stand in front of Lord Taylor. He then nudged his horse to the side to stand in front of Lady Morgan. ?M?lady Morgen. I have kept my promise.? He wavered again in his saddle. ?Your. . . Red Knight. . .has won.?

He slumped forward then slid off the right side of his horse and fell to the ground and laid there.

Deleted.

Sir Galeron looked out through the white, cloth veil at the silhouette of the woman by the window. "Excuse me, ma'am, but how long have I been laying here? Did the banquet start yet? I'm to sit with the Lady Morgan and I should not want to miss that."

Morgan whirled around at the sound of his voice. He was awake. The small chuckle of him worrying about missing the banquet died in the back of her throat. She took a step closer and stopped, not sure of the strength of her legs. "The banquet has been postponed until the champion knight is able to attend." Her voice was soft, she fiddled with her hands a moment and then clasped them behind her.

"Postponed?" He thought about how disappointed everyone must be. "There's no need, I can make it." He tried so rise up and grimaced at the pain in his shoulder. "Please, I must go. I don't want to disappoint Lady Morgan. . .or anyone," he added, although it was really Morgan that he cared about. "How long have I been laying here?"

She smiled a bit, her cheeks flushing and her eyes gleaming. He didn't know she was Lady Morgan. She gasped when he tried to move and suddenly her legs worked perfectly. How could she think him so smug at one time and so utterly irresistible the next? She pushed back the veil and eased him back. "Don't try to move. It took hours for the bleeding to stop." Her hands and eyes moved like a butterfly; light and fluttering about his skin, never landing in one spot for too long. "You've been like this for two days now." Her voice softened as she checked for bleeding or puss through the bandage. "Besides," she let out a small sigh seeing he'd not done more damage. "No one is disappointed in waiting a few days to see the famous Red Knight." Her voice softened. "Even I." Finally she let her eyes look to his face.

It was only when she touched him that he realize that it was Lady Morgan he was talking with; and, even worse, that he was naked with only a sheet from the waist down. He laid back, "Two days?" He didn't even want to think about it. "I'm sorry to have been such a burden, Lady Morgan. I should be well enough soon. I've had worse than this."

He then allowed his dark blue eyes to look upon into her face. This was the closes they have been, and her beauty was only increased by the proximity. He smiled, "Thank you for all you've done." He was not going to mention that if she hadn't run onto the tournament field, he wouldn't be lying here and they would have already had the banquet.

"You've not been a burden." She lowered her eyes as she sat on the edge of the bed, fiddling with the corner of the bed sheet. She folded it creased it, then unfolded and re-creased, it just wasn't straight. "Since it is I who probably put you here." Her cheeks flushed. She wanted to shout at him as she had done running across the field. Maybe he wouldn't have lost so much blood if he'd not insisted on going the last round. Knowing he was in pain she held back. She'd wait until her opponent was well rested for a heated argument. "How are you feeling?" She laid her hand to his forehead, then the back of her hand to his cheeks.

Lord Galeron smiled, "Your hand must be magic for I find that I'm feeling much better whenever it touches me." He looked at her and realized that he was only half jesting. The touch of her cool hand on him was indeed pleasant.

She blushed again and he saw a hint of rage. "I still have half a mind to shout at you, and for more than one reason." She pushed from the bed, touching her hand to her own cheeks in order to cool them. At least she was safe away from his bed knowing he couldn't move. She busied herself at the table holding the pitcher and basin, her back to him.

He just had to smile at her attitude. She was a strong-willed woman and didn't hesitate to make that will known. "For more than one reason?" he repeated with a bit of a grunt to his voice as he adjusted his position. "I can't even think of one." He had to smirk as he watched her at the table.

Again she whirled around and stormed to the bed. Angry now, she flung aside the veil. "If you're tongue is well enough to jest then you are well enough for the lashing mine has prepared for you."

She was very much aware of her Red Knight being just inches from her, and here she was ready to attack. He was awesome up close, but he was still just a man, splendid man, but still a man she told herself. He'd given her a heart attack and thought nothing of tell him so.

"I had a very good reason for running out onto the field." She stood her ground. "You...I don't know what possessed you to fight another round with a tree hanging from your arm. You brought up the glen in front of my father when anyone would as much have guessed that I shouldn't have been out there alone, and you as much as tattled on me. And another thing," she paused a moment to take a breath.

"While you're catching your breath, m'lady, let me respond. I had no idea you weren?t supposed to be at the lake, and you weren?t alone. And if you really want to know what possessed me to go another round with that 'tree' sticking out of my arm, I'll tell you." He winced as he tried to sit up straighter. "I couldn't bear the thought of Sir Grassion being next to you at dinner and what he might try. That was why I would not concede the match."

She released her breath that she was going to use to continue drilling him. "You...you'd already won," she said, her eyes now soft and staring at him in confusion. "I would have never let Grassion sit next to me after what he'd done, whether you rode the third round or not."

She wanted to touch him. She had when he'd been sleeping and she cooled his body with the water, but he was ?real? now. The Red Knight was in the same room with her. She had to admit she was a bit nervous. All of the thoughts and pictures she'd had of what she would do if ever faced with the red knight made her cheeks flush.

And again, for the second time in her life, she was speechless.

Lord Galeron had slipped into the realm of strange dreams, confusion and fears. Lances were being pointing at him and his horse refused to charge. His own lance was half the size it should be, and the crowd in the stands was laughing at him. He saw a woman ? it was Lady Morgan. She was scolding him and then walked to Sir Grassion and went into his arms. Galeron tried to warn her, but she and Grassion just laughed and walked off with each other.

Other dreams and nightmares came and went as the fever tore through his body. They continued until he felt those arms about him, the cool cloth to his forehead, and her voice entering into his dreams and soothing him. Perhaps she had not gone away with Sir Grassion. Yes, she was here, she was with him and holding him.

And he rested.

When he awoke he found himself being cradled in Morgan?s arms, and his head rested against her breast. He dared not move lest he?d awake her and this sweet repose would come to an end. He closed his eyes and rested to the slow up and down motion of her breathing.

- - -

In a tent at the outskirts of the town a grizzled, angry man was giving off a stench that filled the pavilion. Squires nearly choked every time they had to enter to administer to Sir Grassion. The knight was suffering with broken ribs, a bruised liver, and the failure of one kidney. In his rage he spat out curses and shouted orders to those who served him until he foamed at the mouth with spittle.

Between every order and curse spit out with all the bitter guile his empty sole could muster, his squires had to listen to his promises of revenge upon Sir Galeron and the Lady Morgan.

Morgan forced herself to breath slowly. Every time her fingers brushed his skin it sent chills to her knees. She just as much as wrapped her arms around his neck when she put the shirt over his head. "You are most welcome m'lord." Her voice was hushed, and he noticed her cheeks flush when he winked at her. She was till a bit uneasy with him knowing how she'd gushed about the red knight in the glen.

She easily slid his right arm through one sleeve and then moved to the other. Slowly she raised his left arm and bent it as little as she could. He noticed she held her breath and held a pained expression as she slid the other sleeve over his arm. She kept glancing to his face to see if he needed her to stop.

He endured the pain, and knew it would be at least two weeks before he could use that arm again. But if he could have Morgan help him with his shirt every day, it would be worth the pain. "I might need help tonight getting it off," he said softly.

She lowered it to his side. "Aye my-" she paused and gave him an un-amused look. "I'm sure Alice will be around to assist you." She smiled. "What would you like to do today my lord?" She began stripping the bed sheets.

He grinned and slowly walked to the window. "I was thinking of re-shoeing my horse, or perhaps there's a tree that I could cut down for a new lance." He tried not to smile. "Or maybe I'll take a walk in the field and get a little sunlight. Perhaps even a walk to the lake."

She laughed, and there was the woman he'd met in the glen. "How will you shoe a horse or carve a new lance if you cannot even dress yourself?" She balled the sheets up tossing them to the floor. "The lake, which you seem to enjoy talking about so much, is too far of a walk for you now. It?ill take weeks for you even be able to dress yourself." She went to him and took his left hand into hers, turning his palm up she flexed his fingers. She placed two fingers in his palm. "Squeeze my fingers."

She tried very hard to push the knowledge of who he was from her head. The memory of his smile was burned into her memory and every time it flashed in her mind she swallowed hard and her mouth went dry. She refused to become a pile of mush in his arms just as every other woman did she was sure.

He tried to squeeze his fingers but wasn't doing a very convincing job of it. "I'll get stronger fast." He released her fingers and turned away toward the window again.

"We'll work on it." She looked up to him. With him turned away she took the moment to study his features. She took a deep breath, it wasn't like her to pet a man's ego and pride but he'd been so strong. "I appreciate what you did in my name at the tournament. It was...it was very honorable. My father was greatly pleased."

"And you? Where you also pleased, m'lady?" It was Morgan that he wanted to please.

"I have to admit I was very impressed." Realized she was till holding his hand she dropped it. She shrugged off the comment and turned from him. "But the reputation of the Red Knight travels fast. Most knew what they could expect from you my lord." She took some pins from the dresser drawer and stood in front of the mirror pulling her hair up.

He stood to the window and looked out on the grounds. "Lady Morgan, I don't wish to take up your day, but if you have time this afternoon, will you walk with me?"

She turned to him and smiled a bit. "Yes. I?ll walk with you." She stepped towards him. "Most of the knights from the games have gathered in the yard to practice. How does a blanket with a basket of fried chicken under a large shade tree sound? Or the sunlight if you prefer. You can rest while you watch the display."

He turned and looked into her eyes, "Under the shade tree sounds delightful, m'lady. I look forward to it."

He saw an honest smile flash across her lips for a moment, but then she blinked and looked away. "I'll have the spot prepared." She bowed to him. "I must change clothes. I will see you momentarily...Lord Galeron." She left the room and Alice entered.

"Come now Sir Galeron. Lord Taylor wished to have a word with you when you were well enough to leave your bed." She waited for him by the door.

He nodded and slipped his feet into his boots, and struggled to pull them up by himself. With much effort he finally got his boots on. He stood up and walked to Alice. "Okay...let's go."