Read "Bertrand of Brittany" by Warwick Deeping online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
IT so happened that when Bertrand rode down to the lists on his cousin's horse a certain Sir Girard de Rochefort held the field, having emptied saddle after saddle, and astonished the crowd with his powerful tilting. Lord after lord had gone down before him, till the elder men grew jealous of their dignity, and left him to be flown at by the ambitious hawks among the squires. Sir Girard had made short work of the adventurous youngsters, and it seemed that he would have the prize and the place of honor, and the wreath from the hands of Jeanne de Blois. Already he boasted no less than ten falls to his spear, and had unhorsed such riders as the Lord Peter Portebœuf and Sir Hervè de Leon.
Bertrand rode down into the lists, the cheerful audacity of youth afire in him, ready to fight any mortal or immortal creature, man or devil. What was the splendor of Sir Girard's past to him? What did it signify that De Rochefort had hardened his sinews fighting for three years under the banner of the Teutonic Knights, and that he had carried off the prize at a great tourney at Cologne? Bertrand was as strong in his ignorance as he was heavy in the shoulders. He came fresh and raw from the country, contemptuous of all odds, and untroubled by any self-conscious magnifying of the prowess of his opponents. He was there to fight, to break his neck, if needs be, and to prove to his kinsfolk that the ugly dog could bite.