“When you are thirteen, I will tell you, but not before, and certes,” he retorted, guessing, “it was not with Isabel. Are you so ignorant? Girls like Isabel are not to be dallied with, and certainly not swived.” Richard winced at the unpleasant peasant word. “Have you not learned anything from our lessons in chivalry about loving a noble lady? You speak prettily to her, write poems to her, sing songs to her, dance with her, but you do not bed her. That is reserved for her husband alone.”

“Then I shall just have to marry Isabel,” Richard declared, squeezing the rest of the water from his nightshirt.

“For you, ’tis not impossible, but until you are fully a man, you should practice on a wench beneath you,” Rob told him, enjoying his play on words, which he saw was lost on Richard. “From all I have been told, lust comes before love. Although in my case…” he tailed off, a wistful note in his voice.

“Do you love someone, Rob? I think I love Isabel, but how do I know?”

Rob was tired of answering questions; typical of lads his age, he could be forgiven that he wasn’t sure if what he felt for the gentle blacksmith’s daughter was love or lust—all he knew was that he was happy when he was in her arms.

“Better hurry up and get dressed or we will be late for mass,” was all Rob could think to say, thwarting Richard’s desire to know more. Richard had observed his parents’ great love: how they had often caressed each other even in their children’s presence; the lingering kiss they used to share whenever they had to be parted; and the unbridled joy with which they reunited. Thus Richard had grown up thinking this was the normal way for a husband and wife to behave. After his conversations with Ned, and by eavesdropping on the older boys in the henchmen’s quarters, he was learning that love could come from elsewhere besides marriage. It at once titillated and discomfited him.

At mass, he prayed he and Isabel might be wed soon, so he wouldn’t have to choose.

“Ready!” shouted the indefatigable Master Lacey to the two squires at either end of the lists. Richard and Rob each lowered the visor on their helms, adjusted their wooden ecranches strapped on their left hands to shield their chests and held their lances raised to heaven.

“Charge!”