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here to show these arrogant knights what he thought of them. He and his group of challengers were determined to inflict such defeat on them as would never forget.
    His friends understood what was expected of them. They were young, vital and spoiling for the fight. Although the leading champions were here, some of them were not in the first flush of their youth, their limbs might well be stiffening a little and it was speed and agility which were needed in the fight― not arrogance and strains of royal blood.
    It was a brilliant show. Edward knew that his Perrot was going to succeed.
    There was an air of confidence about him and for days he had been complaining bitterly of the treatment he received from many scions of ancient houses.
    They were going to be taught a lesson and Edward was longing to see it administered.
    Edward made it clear that the tournament had been devised by the Earl of Cornwall (he and Gaveston had decided was the title by which he must be referred to from now on) for their pleasure and that it was a joust à Plaisance― which meant that it was purely for sport and that each lance would be fitted with its coronel— an iron head roughly shaped and with several blunt points which would prevent harm coming to the combatants. This was different from a joust
à l’Outrance
which meant that the contenders fought until one was forced to surrender and would surely be wounded― often severely— or even killed, for such jousts as these were fought with a sharp lance or spear.
    Gaveston distinguished herself with great éclat. In a very short time he was tackling one of his greatest enemies the leader of the Champions, John Warenne, Earl of Surrey and Sussex. With great panache and with a certain malicious delight, he went into the fight. He had challenged Warenne because he knew that he was one of those who deplored the King’s friendship with him and had not hesitated to make his feelings known.
    Warenne was a handsome young man just about twenty years of age. His father had died when he was six months old and he had not long before succeeded to his titles on the death of his grandfather. During the preceding year he had been married to the King’s niece, Joanna, the daughter of Edward’s eldest sister Eleanor and the Count of Bar, so he considered himself a member of the royal family through marriage. He was a proud young man and pleased to be connected with the King and on more than one occasion he had done his best to humiliate Gaveston.
    He was noted for his skill in the joust and had become acknowledged champion of that art, and there could be no doubt that he was delighting in the opportunity offered him of humiliating the King’s dear friend. Gaveston was, of course, determined that it should be the other way round.
    There were many who were aware during those tense moments that this was something more than a joust
à Plaisance
. The feeling that a great deal was at stake had permeated atmosphere and the tension was growing.
    As the two men rode into the field and came at each other with their blunted lances the King leaned forward in his seat.
    ‘Go to it, Perrot,’ he murmured to himself. ‘Make Warenne grovel in the dust.’
    They tilted, each highly skilled. Everyone knew that Warenne was a champion so it was Gaveston who surprised them the most. All the skill of the champion was his. That much was clear. The thunder of hoofs as they galloped towards at each other; the clash of steel as they met and then suddenly a cry went up. One of them was down.
    The thundering of Edward’s heart matched that of the horse’s hoofs. A mist swam before his eyes so that he was not sure which was which.
    ‘Oh God, yes it is― it is―’ he murmured. ‘Warenne is down.’
    What a moment of humiliation! What a moment of glory!
    Warenne would never forget nor forgive this moment.
    Defeated, he a champion, beaten by an upstart Gascon knight who owed his title to the King’s favour for questionable