{"id":311,"date":"2023-10-13T19:48:46","date_gmt":"2023-10-14T02:48:46","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/seanmiller.us\/blog\/?p=311"},"modified":"2023-10-13T19:49:38","modified_gmt":"2023-10-14T02:49:38","slug":"the-joust-at-med-faire","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/seanmiller.us\/blog\/the-joust-at-med-faire\/","title":{"rendered":"The Joust at Med Faire"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

This week I’ve been working on the second draft of an early chapter of the The Kingdom of Fief<\/em> where Aliyah jousts with Skippy at Merrymount Middle School’s annual Med Faire. This is when Aliyah snaps \u2014 meaning she becomes, in her mind, a knight-errant.<\/p>\n\n\n

\n
\"Breakdown<\/a><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

\u201cPrrrfffft,\u201d the trumpets screeched once more.
Aliyah and Skippy ducked under the tent-flap at the exact same time. Their tube-horses collided, sending them pinging off each other into the tent walls. Aliyah clutched at the canvas to keep herself from toppling over. Skippy did the same. The combined weight of their bodies, plus Aliyah\u2019s armor, was too much for the flimsy tent. The nearby posts collapsed.
I zipped around Aliyah out into the open air. The bundle of lances I was holding got caught in the opening as I rushed through it. They flew from my arms in all directions.
Down came the tent on those unlucky enough to be inside. The crowd gasped.
Aliyah was rolling around on the ground. The tube-horse cushioned her waist. Her scabbard acted like a break, halting her rotation. She laid there face up, flailing her steel-sheathed limbs around like a capsized crab.
Skippy had bounced up and was practically crying with laughter. \u201cI\u2019m okay,\u201d he shouted to the crowd. He waved. The crowd cheered.
I was busy gathering up all the fallen lances, when I realized Aliyah needed help. I dropped the lances and rushed over to her. I laid down on the grass and tried to wriggle my sneakers up under her breastplate. Then I pushed up as hard as I could like I was doing a leg press at the gym. She slowly tipped forward and was able to sit up. Now I got on all fours beside her. Pushing off from my back, she was able to prop herself all the way up onto her legs. She wobbled for a moment then got her footing.
The crowd cheered again \u2014 even louder than before.
Both combatants made their way to a patch of dirt just under the royal tent. Aliyah clapped her gauntlet to her chest and the clang of steel-on-steel rang out.
Skippy doffed his skateboard helmet and took a deep bow.
Aliyah said, \u201cKnights don’t bow.”
I trotted up beside her with the stack of lances poking out in all directions.
Under the royal tent, the entire Med Faire court sat in rows of folding chairs. They were all wearing Kingdom of Fief-branded finery \u2014 the boys in puffy coats, stockings, and pointy-toed boots, the girls in long flowing gowns and modest head wraps. In the center, there was what appeared to be a pleather recliner. Beside it was a [mesh-upholstered] pro gaming chair. Both were draped in pink madras tapestries.
The trumpets blared again.
In walked the King and Queen of Med Faire. Wrapped around the King\u2019s narrow shoulders was a cloak of purple velveteen with a thick mantle of fuzzy white trim arrayed with black dots. He was a carrying a scepter \u2014 the same one on the King Courtois doll Aliyah had on her bedside altar \u2014 except larger. On his head was a replica King Courtois Royal Crown with faux ruby and sapphire jewels. The crown was a bit too small for his head and tilted to the side. He had to keep adjusting it with his free hand lest it slide ride off his skull and crash to the ground.
The Queen was wrapped in a similar cloak, but instead of black dots, it had pink hearts. Her head and neck were covered in a white ski baclava leaving a oval for her face. The stark whiteness of the baclava made the skin of her face glow pink. On her head sat a crown just like the King\u2019s, except it was pointier and daintier.
The audience had turned to watch them take their seats. The King was doing his best to look dignified. His chin was thrust high in the air. The queen\u2019s mouth was puckered into what looked like a permanent smooch.
But they looked terrified. They stood in front of their chairs and gave one of those royal waves where they hold their hand rigidly open and twist their wrist like a weathervane.
The audience whistled and hooted. Somewhere in the crowd, a toddler voice rang out, \u201cI need cotton candy, Mommy!\u201d
When the King went to sit down, he miscalculated his descent. The recliner back rocked back and the leg rest snapped open. His crown flew back, thumped on the platform, and spun like plate at the feet of a maiden who was sitting right behind the thrones. The maiden leapt up and perched on her chair as if the crown were a rabid animal.
The crowd was aghast.
\u201cThat\u2019s funny!\u201d the toddler said.
The King groped around for the handle on the side of the recliner. He finally got himself sitting upright. After profuse encouragement from her neighbors, the maiden got down from her perch, scooped up the crown, and brought it over to the King. He let her place it back on his head.
There was an awkward silence.
\u201cBwaaaang,\u201d the trumpets rang out. \u201cBraaaap. Baa-raap.\u201d
The Queen leaned over and whispered something into the King\u2019s ear.
\u201cOh,\u201d the King muttered to himself. He held up his scepter and cleared his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen, let the joust\u2026er\u2026commence. May the best knight\u2026um\u2026triumph.\u201d
Skippy trotted over to the end of the jousting course.
Aliyah smacked her breastplate again. She took a few steps forward and stood just below the royal platform. \u201cI dedicate this victory to the Queen,\u201d she said. \u201cIf her Majesty would find me worthy.\u201d Aliyah removed her helm, got on her knee, and bowed her hand deeply.
The Queen looked confused.
\u201cMommy, look. Robot is sad.\u201d the toddler said.
\u201cThat\u2019s not a robot, Bunny, that\u2019s a knight.\u201d
\u201cNight night time for robot?\u201d
\u201cNo, a knight, with a \u2018k.\u2019 Like a soldier.\u201d\u201cK is a letter!\u201d
Aliyah would not move.
\u201cWhat\u2019s the hold up?\u201d I whispered in the tiny ear hole in her helm. \u201cI will only fight in honor of the Queen.\u201d
\u201cOkay, so go ahead and do that.\u201d
\u201cHer Majesty must give me\u2026no, it is improper for me to make demands of my betters.\u201dThe crowd was getting restless. They started chanting in unison, Joust, joust, joust,\u201d getting louder and louder.
\u201cWhat do you want? I\u2019ll tell her.\u201d
\u201cHer Majesty.\u201d
\u201cI\u2019ll tell Her Majesty what you want.\u201d
\u201cA token of her favor.\u201d
\u201cA token? What, like a subway token?\u201d
\u201cA scarf. Or handkerchief.\u201d
\u201cOh!\u201d I turned to the Queen. \u201cSir Aliyah\u2026\u201d
\u201cSpeak up, boy, we can\u2019t hear you,\u201d the King said with a big grin. His Majesty seemed pleased with his regal air.
I shouted, \u201cSir Aliyah requests a token of the Queen\u2019s favor.\u201d
\u201cA what?\u201d
\u201cDoes she\u2026I mean, does Her Majesty have a hankie?\u201d
\u201cA hankie?\u201d
I pretended to blow my nose into a handkerchief.
\u201cAre you ill?\u201d
\u201cA snot rag!\u201d
The Queen started fishing around under her cloak. She shrugged.
The mother of the toddler yelled out, \u201cI have a wet-wipe. Will that work?\u201d
The King tapped his scepter on the platform. \u201cI command you to send it this way!\u201d
The folks in the mother\u2019s row passed the wet-wipe over. The King pinched it in his white glove and handed it over to the Queen.
The hitched up the hem of her cloak and stepped gingerly forward. She leaned over the railing with thrust out the wet-wipe.
Aliyah rose and approached the Queen. She kneeled again, bowed, and held up her hands. The Queen dropped the wipe and, mercifully, it fell right into Aliyah\u2019s palms.
The crowd cheered. \u201cJoust! Joust!\u201d
Aliyah gazed at the the wet-wipe with loving attention. Her voice was trembling. \u201cIt is the greatest honor that the Queen has favored me with this small token of Her Majesty\u2019s favor. I will cherish it. And that Her Majesty gave it to me with Her Majesty\u2019s own hands. Words cannot express how honored\u2014\u201d Her voice cracked.
The King whacked his scepter on the floor again \u2014 this time with such force, I thought it would break in half. \u201cCan we start now!\u201d
\u201cJoust! Joust!\u201d
Members of the crowd shouted out, \u201cCrush him! Kill him! Lay him low!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

[ADD jousting instructions here \u2014 by the vizier character]<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Aliyah tucked the wet-wipe into the collar of her breastplate. She moved to her position at the end of the tilt-yard. That\u2019s what they called a jousting field back in the day. There was usually a long barrier in the middle of it, called a tilt. Here in the grassy sports field, they\u2019d set up a string of those airport barrier belts with orange traffic cones at each end. Skippy was on the left side at one end, Aliyah at the other.
I followed Aliyah to her end. She shooed me away. I was to take my position with the spare lances. I trotted over to the spot she was pointing too with lances dangling precariously from my arms.
Aliyah called me back. She lifted her visor and cupped my shoulders in a tight grip. She fixed her eyes on mine. \u201cSteel thyself,\u201d she said. \u201cWe must meet a chance at glory with our best self.\u201d
\u201cAren\u2019t you nervous?\u201d
\u201cI live for these moments.\u201d
\u201cPlease be careful.\u201d
She gave a flash of a smile then released her grip. \u201cGo.\u201d
I trotted back to my spot.
\u201cNunce!\u201d she said, \u201cA lance.\u201d
I trotted back and pulled a lance out of the bunch and handed it to her. The rest of them spilled onto the grass. It took a bit to gather them back up.
Aliyah sighed. She flipped her visor down and turned to face Skippy at the end of the tilt-yard.
He was hopping around and shaking out his arms, hooting and hollering. His squire also waited in his spot.
The horns burped out a long, excited note. Aliyah and Skippy looked to the King and Queen. The King held his scepter high. Then he let it drop.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

[CHAPTER break]<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Skippy buckled the chinstrap of his helmet. Aliyah lowered her visor. Skippy tucked his lance under his elbow and pointed it toward the clear, blue sky. Aliyah did the same. Skippy kicked up some grass, neighed loudly, and starting trotting down the course.
It took Aliyah a little longer to pick up a head of steam. It didn\u2019t look easy \u2014 running in a full suit of armor with an inflatable tube cinched around your waist and a toy plastic lance tucked up into your armpit.
The crowd was cheering wildly. As the two combatants got closer to each other, they went from trotting to jogging to full-on sprinting. The rattle of Aliyah\u2019s armor echoed throughout the whole field, like the methodical grinding of one of those old-fashioned choo-choo trains. Skippy\u2019s gear made more of a swooshing sound.
As they got close to each other, they lowered their lances, aiming the pill-shaped foam tips straight for the other\u2019s chest.
Both made a direct hit. The sound the foam made on metal, on kevlar, was anticlimactic. More of a thump than a crash. The lances buckled under the force of the blow and shattered in half. [MOVE UP: They were made of broom-stick wood.] That was a much more satisfying sound \u2014 a crackling and popping.
Both of them went staggering back. Aliyah got her heel caught on a divot in the field and tripped, falling on her back with a jangle and clank. Skippy just managed to keep his balance. He raised his broken lance in triumph.
The crowd roared.
\u201cOne point for Sir Skippy!\u201d the vizier said.
\u201cUt-oh. Robot fall down. Robot broken,\u201d Amir said.
The King tapped his fingertips gently on his palm, \u201cWell played. Well played.\u201d
Aliyah moaned. I rushed over to help her to her feet. She staggered around for a bit, then righted herself. Skippy was already in position at his end of the tilt-yard.
The trumpets blared.
Aliyah snapped to. She marched down to her end and held out her hand. I was busy cleaning up all the shards of wood from the lances. Someone had to do it. They could give you a painful sliver. She waited, immobile.
I ran back to my station, chucked the bits of lance on the ground, grabbed another lance, and ran back to hand it to Aliyah.
Before the trumpets had ended their croaky notes, Skippy was rushing down the line, skittering this way and that, cackling and whistling.
This seemed to infuriate Aliyah. [TOO interior?] She took a long heave of a breath than launched herself down the course.
Just as they were within striking distance, Skippy juked to his side. Aliyah completely whiffed.
Whump! Skippy, on the other hand, made a direct hit to her breastplate.
The crowd gasped.
Aliyah tottered for a moment, then crumpled to the ground like a jenga tower. There was a big dent in her armor.
Skippy danced around, then, for good measure, dabbed.
\u201cAshes to ashes. We all fall down,\u201d Amir said.
The crowd roared its approval.
Aliyah clambered up. She took a knee, holding herself up with her lance. She bowed her head and kneeled there, frozen.
The trumpets rang out. The crowd began clapping as one, chanting, \u201cSweep! Sweep!\u201d
What was she doing?
At last, she stirred. She stood up and trotted back to her spot.
I felt like it was my duty to say something. Give her a pep talk. “You gotta\u2026you can’t get knocked over again\u2026you\u2019re gonna lose. Badly.\u201d
“I am aware,\u201d she said.
Round three. This time, Skippy came hopping up the line with his arms out and his wrists bent like he was a bunny. He even stopped to sniff in the air and nibble at some make-believe lettuce.
The crowd was chuckling.
Aliyah, on the other hand, wasn\u2019t so much running or jogging or even tottering \u2014 more like falling forward with her feet catching her weight just before she pitched over and did a face-plant.
Just as they reached collision distance, Skippy tried the same trick as last time \u2014 hopping to the side to miss Aliyah\u2019s thrust. But she anticipated this. She whipped the tip of her lance down ahead of his move. His lance glanced off her pouldron, sending him lurching forward just as her lance met him.
But it was low. Too low. The tip met the front of his tire-tube steed and ricocheted tight down right into his\u2026um\u2026groin.
Skippy fell to his knees, doubled over, and shrieked.
At first the crowd cheered wildly.
When he took this in, Skippy threw himself over on the grass. He started rolling around, grimacing and moaning.
Aliyah ducked under the belt of the barricade and approached him. She threw her lance down and lifted her visor. The other page and I ran over to join them.
\u201cNo fair. Low blow,\u201d Skippy whined.
Aliyah\u2019s voice was trembling. \u201cI didn’t mean to.”
\u201cYou should be disqualified.\u201d
All four of us turned to the royal tent. The King and the Queen looked confused. The vizier too. The crowd began chanting, \u201cOne more time! One more time!\u201d [MAKE this weirder]
The vizier conferred with the royal couple. Finally, she stepped forward, \u201cDo over!\u201d
\u201cDo over! Do over!\u201d the crowd shouted.
\u201cNo fair!\u201d Skippy bounced up to his feet. His face was all scrunched up in a scowl. He started pacing around in circles.
Aliyah, on the other hand, looked devastated.
\u201cYou have to be more careful,\u201d I said to Aliyah. \u201cYou\u2019re going to get disqualified.\u201d
She gathered herself. He face turned grim. \u201cI will yield.\u201d
\u201cWhat?\u201d
\u201cA false blow is a great dishonor. I must yield the field.\u201d
\u201cYou can\u2019t let him win.\u201d
\u201cI must.\u201d She turned to the royal tent.
I grabbed her shoulder and jerked her back. \u201cHe doesn\u2019t deserve to win.\u201d
She looked at my hand as if it were a tarantula sitting there on her pouldron. \u201cUnhand me. You take liberties above your station.\u201d
\u201cYou have to beat him.\u201d
\u201cHonor demands I yield.\u201d
Skippy came up to us. He was smirking. \u201cNo hard feelings.\u201d He held out his hand to Aliyah.
Aliyah was unmoving. Skippy held his hand out, waiting.
\u201cDo over! Do over!\u201d the crowd chanted.
I had to say something\u2026anything to convince her to continue. \u201cWho do you serve?\u201dAliyah looked confused.
\u201cWho do you serve?\u201d I asked again.
\u201cMy honor.\u201d
\u201cYou serve the King, don\u2019t you?\u201d
\u201cYes. I have sworn an oath.\u201d
\u201cAnd what does the King want?\u201d
\u201cA do over.\u201d
\u201cYeah, the King wants a do-over, weirdo,\u201d Skippy added.
Aliyah glared at Skippy. \u201cYour reasoning is sound. I have dishonored my house, my self. But above all, I must obey the King\u2019s wishes.\u201d Aliyah took Skippy\u2019s hand and squeezed. You could practically hear Skippy\u2019s knuckles popping from the pressure.
Skippy squeezed back. \u201cGood girl. This time, I\u2019ll finish you off.\u201d
They kept on gripping each other\u2019s hand.
Skippy gave out a nervous laugh. \u201cI\u2019ll let go when you do.\u201d
Just then, I noticed his other hand was behind his back. As Aliyah started to release her grip, he brought it up. He was holding something. I couldn\u2019t make out what it was. Aliyah didn\u2019t notice it either. Skippy pulled her toward him. As she drew close, he raised what he was holding to his lips. It was a pixie stick. He blew hard into it. The sugar dust came blasting out \u2014 right into Aliyah\u2019s eyes. He let go of her hand.
Aliyah cried out and buckled over. She instinctively rubbed her eyes, but the cold steel of her gauntlet fingertips only made it worse.
“But no hard feelings,\u201d Skippy said. He trotted off to his hand of the tilt-yard.
It all happened so fast, no one in the crowd seemed to notice. \u201cDo over! Do over!\u201d they carried on gleefully chanting.
\u201cThat jerk!\u201d I turned to the royal tent. \u201cDid you see what happened?\u201d
The King, the Queen, the vizier \u2014 even the court all sitting behind them \u2014 they all looked annoyed. They hadn\u2019t seen any of it.
The trumpets blared.
Aliyah staggered upright. Her eyes were all red and tearing up. She started trotting back to her spot, swerving this was and that. She veered into the stanchion. I chased after her and tried to steer her straight.
\u201cAre you okay?\u201d
\u201cMy lance,\u201d she said coolly.
I handed one over. \u201cYou have to beat him.\u201d
\u201cFor the Queen,\u201d she said.
I fished around in my pockets. No tissue, nothing. I tried wiping her eyes with my sleeve.
The trumpets cried out again.
Aliyah waved me off. She steadied herself.
Skippy came bounding up tilt. Aliyah launched herself, still staggering, down the line to meet him.
When they neared each other, it was obvious that she was still blinded by the sugar. Skippy lowered his lance, but Aliyah was late in doing the same. She stumbled forward and \u2014 whomp! \u2014 met Skippy\u2019s lance thrust in her neck. The lance shattered. Luckily, her gorget was protecting her there. But the force of the blow sent her feet\u2026<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

This week I’ve been working on the second draft of an early chapter of the The Kingdom of Fief where Aliyah jousts with Skippy at Merrymount Middle School’s annual Med Faire. This is when Aliyah snaps \u2014 meaning she becomes, in her mind, a knight-errant. \u201cPrrrfffft,\u201d the trumpets screeched once more.Aliyah and Skippy ducked under … Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_coblocks_attr":"","_coblocks_dimensions":"","_coblocks_responsive_height":"","_coblocks_accordion_ie_support":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[8,3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-311","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fiction","category-process","no-featured-image-padding"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/seanmiller.us\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/311","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/seanmiller.us\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/seanmiller.us\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/seanmiller.us\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/seanmiller.us\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=311"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/seanmiller.us\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/311\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":315,"href":"https:\/\/seanmiller.us\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/311\/revisions\/315"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/seanmiller.us\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=311"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/seanmiller.us\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=311"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/seanmiller.us\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=311"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}