"A girl Knight (2)" by Alexis Paige Millan

Now in Bryn’s mind this was completely settled. She was noble, so why should she not compete? She needed the prize money far more than the noblemen did, and was probably far more fit for competition than they were, after years of farm work and heavy labor. Try as he might Edward could not dissuade her of this pursuit. It was not illegal, she argued, as it would be if he, a commoner, wanted to compete, there was no law governing the participation of women, as it had never come up before. In spite of this compelling evidence, Edward remained skeptical.

“And what would you do for armor, your ladyship? It isn’t cheap, and you certainly haven’t the means to purchase some for this venture.” His logic was sound, but Bryn was extremely hardheaded, and would under no circumstances change her mind.

“I already have some. My grandfather left his in the big trunk in the attic. It is certainly still there. I can wear that until I have won enough to get new stuff.” She argued well, but her words fell on ears as deaf as her own.

“That’s all well and good, then. Off we go to the tournament!”

“I can do without your sarcasm.”

“Just think for once, my darling little Bryn! That armor is old; it will probably break the first time it is hit with a lance! It will not fit you, unless you grandfather was a very peculiar man, and even if it did, you have no training in the ways of the knights!”

“But I can learn. Come with me and be my scribe, and we can both be famous, or I will do it without you.”

At this point Edward knew his attempts at sound reasoning were hopeless, and he decided that he would rather watch her fail in person, where he could keep an eye on her, than from a distance.

I will spare the story of the transformation of the lady Bryn to Sir Bryan for another day and another audience, but suffice to say it was not a pretty picture. The armor was indeed old, though not as rusted as Edward had feared, and much too large for her. She suffered from nearly as many broken ribs as broken lances, and her old horse was certainly no better for the wear. Bryn was remarkable shy about changing her appearance, considering her desire to compete. She fought long and hard with Edward about how masculine her clothing had to be, and if her hair must indeed be cut. They eventually settled on masculine clothing with long hair, as she argued that many young noblemen had curiously long hair. None the less she was determined to compete in the next possible tournament, and sure enough three months after Bryn vowed to become a knight Edward found himself on the road to York, heading for a tournament.

“If you had told me that I would find myself camped beside the road to York heading for a tournament with little Bryn, who has become Lord Bryan, I would have told you you were mad.”

“And I would probably have agreed with you, but destiny had other plans.”

“I don’t care about destiny, as long as we get out of this without being arrested.”

She only sighed. Highly tired of his moody, poetic nature, she went to go poke the fire, for no good reason other than everybody knows it is fun to poke a fire, then run with the pointed stick. As she was poking the fire, wondering why she couldn’t find some more emotionally stable friends a group of young travelers approached. Bryn paid them little attention, thinking that Edward might as well make himself useful in dealing with them.

“Hey little boy! What are you doing way out here?” The largest, and apparently most obnoxious of the travelers was the first to address Edward. This was unfortunate, as Edward was very self-conscious about his petit stature, he stood several inches shorter than Bryn, and likely to be easily angered by large cretins.

“I know not who you are addressing, my surly friend, I see no little boys around here.” Edward had the obnoxious trait of becoming overly loquacious when angered.

“That’s only ‘cuz you don’t got a mirror.” The speaker’s companions laughed heartily at this hideously original remark.

Well, way lead to way, and by the time Bryn had finished poking the fire and was considering running around with a pointed stick the pituitarily advanced traveler was beating up on Edward pretty badly. Bryn sighed. She knew it would be wrong to leave him there, but she did not desire to become involved. She walked over to them, trying to look as masculine and formidable as possible.

“Ha, see, my Master comes. Would you strike a Nobleman?” This comment angered Bryn quite, as it is always unwise to challenge someone who outweighs you by two stone.

“Now, enough of this fighting, release my servant at once.” A powerful voice masked all doubts. “There is nothing to be gained by this petty argument.”

“This is your master? Why he looks more like a girl! My mother doesn’t have curls that long!” This was a bad move on the part of the surly traveler, for Bryn had an unfortunate temper, and he had just mocked three months worth of studying to be manly. She pushed Edward out of the way and punched the offending speaker in the face. He stumbled a little, but did not fall. He looked up angrily at her, if there was any moment to exercise the powers of the nobility, this was it.

“Leave this campsite immediately and I will peruse this fight no further, stay and the authorities will hear that you initiated a fight with a nobleman, and I am sure they won’t believe that I threw the first punch.” The gentleman, who’s nose had started to bleed a little from the punch, seemed to think as hard as he was capable of about what his next action should be. After a pitifully long pause he spoke;

“Let’s get out of here, this is stupid.” That’s all. He and his bulky friends continued on their way. Edward looked up at Bryn with something that almost resembled respect, then laughed;

“Wow, “Sir Bryan,” you really fooled them.” Bryn stared at him a moment, a little surprised he would turn this situation around to embarrass her, “At first light,” she responded, “Your cutting all this hair off.” She glared at him, and returned to her fire and pointed stick.