The wild cheering died down and an awkward lull in the action left the audience mumbling. Champions fidgeted slightly, glancing along the line, counting the participants. It was exactly the kind of confusion and cover the Lady preferred.

Dark hair braided back, a modest crown of tiny white flowers, a small lithe figure in earth-hues, with sheaf of arrows at her back and bow shouldered, entered the ring.

Slowly the low din from the stands ebbed as she made her way to the middle. As she raised her left forearm, a shriek rang out. A fearsome hawk swooped out of the sky, alighting upon her gloved wrist in silence.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I do believe the Lady Elshanor of Hawk Manor has graced us with her presence!” the shocked announcer proclaimed. Lady Elshanor curtsied, keeping her bird arm gracefully aloft so as not to startle her companion. A royal blue satin banner shimmered, emblazoned with a hawk in flight.

“She’s much shorter than I thought,” a challenger said to his neighbor during raucous applause.